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mostsanegirlever · 2 months

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Hi :)

I’m writing this as a direct response to whatever the hell went on yesterday. Before I directly offer my counterpoints I just wanna make some things clear:

1. English is not my first language and I don’t use any proper translation app for revision. I use a lot of adverbs because that’s how I express myself in my mother language. The punctuation also goes with how I use it in Portuguese.

2. I’m not offended on Chan's behalf, I’m just extremely passionate about debating (both online and irl), especially when I think others are objectively wrong.

3. I’m not only pro boycotting this single, but I also pray every night that it never sees the light of day.

I’ve been against this collab and voiced my distaste as soon as I was made aware of its existence. At first it wasn’t because of Charlie Puth’s “opinions” on the Genocide being conducted against Palestinians in their occupied mother land (I actually had no idea where he stood since I have him blocked everywhere for being annoying, ugly and untalented), but getting to know that he’s an actual Zionist was the final straw for me, and I won’t be listening to it at all. That’s where I personally stand and I’m not known for changing my mind.

As soon as the news dropped, I took this feature for what it is: a chart gambling move by Republic Records (Stray Kids’ American distributor and promoter). Releasing a soulless English single featuring a C-list American “artist” is basically a trend in K-pop nowadays, since it places the group in the charts fast enough before the actual comeback, has viral TikTok potential and extends by 2 the promotional period.

I never actually expected JYPE to follow suit with SKZ, as much as they have given other groups the tired and bland English pre-release. As I said, it was a no for me from the start because I don’t like nor do I listen to something that’s so shamelessly a marketing strategy made for an easy cash grab.

I expressed my opinion that it was a sell-out move that would taint SKZ’ original and cohesive discography.

As soon as the credits were posted, my first thought was that it was never SKZ’ song to begin with. In my opinion, it was very clear by the credits positioning that the song was made by Charlie and the other dude (who isn’t even like just a random Zionist but a full Israeli that has undoubtedly served the IOF) and the featuring was orchestrated in a reunion with people who see music as business and artists are decided by they capacity of making profit by charting.

Once again, I personally refuse to consume this type of slop, especially when it comes from people who openly align themselves with a genocidal ethno-state.

I’m aware that my decision to not listen to this song won’t have any impact on the decisions both companies will make for SKZ in the future, since the music industry isn’t known to take morals into consideration when it comes to easy profit.

I also keep my opinion that media consuming (or non-consuming) isn’t activism, and there’s a fine line between reasoning on why you chose to boycott and empty virtue signaling. The latter always comes with a huge deal of self-righteousness, which we’ve seen plenty of since yesterday.

My expectation was that everyone who agreed to boycott directed their indignation towards RR and JYPE, since it was obviously an administrative decision and this has no artistic value. MUCH TO MY SURPRISE! (not really, this always happens) Chan has been in the front-line for getting all the lashes.

No mention of the other members of 3RACHA, who were also “in the room with racists” and have the exact same amount of credits and creative liberty, no mention of RR who obviously was the one orchestrating the promotional single (as they did with that TXT song with Jonas Brothers, Usher feat. Jungkook and the list goes on).

Lots of people questioned this when they saw that tweet, with no concrete response by OP or the ones who backed her up on why he was solely being condemned and blamed for the collaboration.

After a while, many came to justify that directing the anger towards Chan is valid since he is “the leader”, “the oldest” and “the spokesperson” of the group. For me personally, it’s hard to understand why a group made out of fully adult cisgender able-bodied males would need a spokesperson when they’re perfectly capable of speaking up for themselves on instances like this, but it’s interesting to see him suddenly become the only one who can speak for the group considering many people were shading him for being the one who always gives the speeches earlier this week.

Although the main claim is that he has more power because of his position as leader, I don’t think anyone actually believes that. The blame falls strictly onto Chan every single time because he made the biggest mistake an artist can make: treat his fans as equal.

He established an open line of communication as he presented his own authentic self, showing his flaws and often putting himself down and accepting the blame as means of maybe alleviating the inhumane amount of hatred he’s been submitted to since he dared to share his passion with the most demonic industry with the biggest amount of brain-dead fan-girls.

This made Chris the main character of arguably the most intense parasocial relationship I’ve seen in years of fandom hopping.

The post that started the blame shift towards Chan referred to him by his full name (weird, but punctual since many seem to believe they know him personally) and goes on to say “I know that you’re reading these quotes” or something like that.

See what I mean? That struggling to fulfill obligations as an idol and cutting himself open to give the fandom unrestricted access to him for years only made them believe that that’s all he does? That he’s #oomf and they can just say anything and it’s part of his job to acknowledge it? That any problem is for him to solve individuality and every praise is meant to be shared?

This entire idea that Bang Chan is somehow different, more important and more impactful than his coworkers isn’t because of the leader title, it’s because of the close relatability due to his openness.

Chan deals with the producer role much as he did with his relationship with the fans: he’s always made it clear that 3RACHA has the same amount of power when it comes to the creative direction of the band. Changbin and Jisung always acted alike, never letting it seem that Chan is the one who calls the shots or takes on “the leader” role inside the producing unit.

This message has never seemed to reach the fandom for some reason and when it comes to highlight something negative it falls strictly on Chan to acknowledge it. His coworkers who are on the exact same level and have the exact same power are never expected to stand up for anything.

Many argue that it’s because Chan is a native speaker but it’s actually, again, because people have a parasocial relationship with him specifically, to a level the other producers never allowed.

That’s exactly the reason you can see here:

if you're like, okay yeah screw all those other people, but why are you blaming chan? niru @/the_kpopalypse on twitter wrote it very well:

"I think Chan is one part of a large team that made this happen. That being said, as a leader, as someone who has generally made it a point to communicate his views on anything that goes on in fandom or the world, and the one who has emphasized the social justice angle of skz's brand since day one...[he] is a grown man who can and should hear the truth."

The expectation doesn’t come from actually believing he’s the leader or the spokesperson, it comes from taking his openness and treating fans as equals, as exposing himself in a genuine way and continuing to attend to expectations in order to keep the crowd pleased and now it all falls on his shoulders, even though not for a minute has he claimed to have more creative freedom or power than any other member in the producer line.

The whole “because he is the leader” means nothing but “because I have higher expectations when it comes to him, because the close relatability made me think I have an open channel of communication and I can demand he attend to my expectations, because I know him on a personal level and he frustrated me”.

I don’t blame anyone for growing such a deep rooted parasocial relationship with him, Chan is indeed a charismatic leader, it’s the hypocrisy that I can’t stand. It’s clearly not his move to go on with this collaboration, and if you decide to critic him in hopes that he’ll see it somehow (as if he has nothing to do but sit around reading your demands and taking notes but once again this belief comes from this parasocial relationship where you guys are convinced he’s the one who’s always there and he’ll be a hero and make everything alright again), then Han Jisung and Seo Changbin, the other men who are credited the same amount, are just as capable of standing up for this.

The parasocial relationship this entire fandom has with Chan (that can be both for love and admiration or hatred and jealousy btw) comes with this huge amount of expectations for him but also for the infantilization of the other members.

Chan is the dad, the one who’s capable and dependable and calls the shots and the other 7 fully adult cis able-bodied millionaire males are just...there. They have no opinions, they have no responsibilities, they have no say.

They’re all 23+ in age and Chan being the oldest is hardly an excuse as to why he’s being pointed as the sole member who needs to take a stance since Minho is no more than a year younger than him.

These are grown men who have been legal voters for years already, and have been raised and socialized in a culturally conservative country. Chan being brave enough to talk about his own political and social views (not the group’s, since the text I’m replying to seemed put him in “skz” when it came to praising) should be a breath of fresh air but instead it only gave him more responsibility when it comes to “educating” the other members, somehow.

I am of the opinion that these expectations only fall on him because you think you know him on a personal level, whereas the others kept the fans at a safe distance from the beginning.

Singling someone out for being “the oldest'' doesn't fly. He speaks for himself only, not for everyone. If it’s about taking a stance, I need all of them to come forward individually and use their social status for what they believe. They aren’t alienated from the world and they have the same amount of free time Chan has, signed the same contracts and are just as grown and capable.

What happened yesterday with name dropping Chan exclusively was no more than people who cultivated a deep rooted parasocial relationship with him (easily noticeable since skz_8283 and the people backing her up are all +18 RPF writers) and seem to think that media consuming and tweeting is activism.

The doubling down on still pointing him out as the sole precursor instead of actually demonstrating their distaste towards the people who decided that this chart gamble would be real, or even at the very least expecting the same amount of responsibility from the other members was even more upsetting.

The anger towards this project is completely justified, but as long as you keep Chan in the middle of your rage it will also be completely misplaced. Chan doesn’t have a choice in this, redirect your demands towards the people who actually call the shots: Republic Records and JYPE/DIV1.

#mespeaking

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scentedchildnacho · 7 months

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He was speaking too propagandically like price of gas and student teach....so I told him that has nothing to do with reality....russo phobic systems like over population in less then desirable banlieus is vladimir Putin.....

Its russo phobic because there are constant experimental renewable projects and you brought Russians gas here.....and now I have asiatic white people trying to cope here and it's rude terrifying and violent all the time....

Taiwan.....

Uhm I told him I didn't student teach because realities of hero teacher don't exist anymore.....many students die of very small budgets do to creations of militarized Nazis.....like aaron hernandez to create him and he wasn't all that good at football students were mass murdered then he bought some guns with their benefits and killed other institutions big strong males....students can help each other in their own unions and the idea of benevolent watcher is only yet another repulsive sibling to feed

Thats what russo phobia is robotic specifications of athletic males sold over the basic rights of women and children

I don't know insider information but if you ask me this coast is like africa....there were horrible energy fires and storms here and I also prefer to obtain rights from housings genocide but asking them why they aren't further in land at country shelters also if I have to go Ive found out they also aren't suppose to linger here too much ...

Wires over disrepaired roofs I am more trained to want more people quarantined so my shelter conditions normalize

Shelters are just sex trafficking without a state of emergency and my homeless kitchens never become operational my cot is never fresh my blankets orderly

If shelter over seers aren't monitored all the time by upper class insurances their very slummish mean and abusive medical experimentation required to disorientation it's cracked

Otherwise you have to be creative to find work....you have to finally brave old boats to pacific island resorts or figure how to start a fire....to cook ...with

That and this meal line is over crowded because prior cases became very sedentary here and still cannot or won't figure out how to move on from here...its caused them to be very sedentary and they won't leave so new people aren't brought down to their level

Southerners trapped at the border I get really phobic of consumer culture here it isn't placed here and I start getting agitated by displacement....

Then I explained to him car reeked of gasoline leeks and that car just pulled through here over four times threatening the impoverished people here.......so I'm sorry but governments have to reduce casualty and if this people is given fossil fuels their emissions are so inductively disgusting that it ruins it for everyone and their made to feel their uncontrolled conduct ruined everyone's good car day.....

They have to learn that if they play light freak that now it's ruined for everybody and nobody gets to go....otherwise we would all have to be light freak suicide specials for looking like racists

Now when I think about induction as a new technology I think about having to wear a wife beater and have a really bad attitude about 20th century history and how everything prior was wrong and so I just don't car because I don't think as an artist I could be a better person then what is ....I would get put on induction and blamed for manufacturing mistakes

European philosophy there are many support roles about humans interaction with technology so taking from a school when ozempics is enormous is wrong to me

There is a live wire over a disrepaired roof so I'm going maybe to figure out how to get paid off a legal job stealing from housing their energy it's better pay to shut more of this system off then rally it's pride

Then he complained about the cost of steak so I said no they aren't here legally they ask for a lot of money so you can sue for more reliable income right away....they shouldn't have to openly accuse their boss of naval like disrepair and do it so they don't have to distribute there....

They don't have federal based uniforms to work there it's smutts research and they aren't legally there .....

It's a diner you can't technically serve food without military code standard of wear your socks should be completely even with both feet

Fdr new deal....it all has exact very exact specifications and uniforms straight conduct required and people too not for obscure pride stop doing people who want toos job....

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djarrex · 3 years

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Pretty please can we have something where Echo and TBB find out Rex and reader are expecting? Bonus points for Omega's reaction cause I wonder sometimes whether she knows much about the natural way babies are made? I figure she wouldn't have need of that information in the Kaminoans' eyes.

I wanna preface this by expressing the joy I feel and the appreciation I have when you guys come into my inbox asking or wanting to talk about Post-Order 66 Rex and fam. I love it SO MUCH you have no idea :’)

So, if you remember, Hunter was briefly in Insatiable and has a couple lines of dialogue - he even congratulates them on the pregnancy and wishes them well in case he doesn’t see them soon - which is shown during Rex + reader + Hunter’s short interaction. The squad is told the happy news before the events of that particular installment, and I’m thinking that it happens when Rex contacts them to ask if they would be able meet him on [planet] for a little help with [mission].

Find the rest of the series and related works in the Post-Order 66 Rex ML

Let’s go back in time when Rex makes contact with TBB, which preludes the events of Insatiable: (pregnant!reader, TBB + Omega finds out, about 1.6k words)

<<<>>>

"We’re being hailed.”

All members on board the Marauder drop what they’re doing and turn their attention to Echo, who had just called out and is signaling for everyone to congregate in the cockpit. Hunter sheathes the knife he’d been twirling in his fingers and nods before stepping towards the rear of the ship and calling for Omega, while Wrecker sets down Gonky and waves her over. Tech and Echo are already sat in the cockpit, getting the signal steady for the incoming transmission to come through.

"What is it?" Omega jumps down from the gunner's nest - now her room thanks to Wrecker's kind heart and creativity - and joins her brothers in the cockpit. The pilot seats are swiveled around and facing the small space in the center of all of them - the bust of a familiar captain popping into view. "Oh, it's Rex! Hi Rex!" She waves at his translucent blue form with a giddy smile plastered on her face. “Where is-”

"Hello Omega," you chime in with a smile as your head pops into the perimeter of the holo. Her sweet face lights up even more, and her eyes move back and forth between you both, unsure of whom to focus on. From the room you’re still staying at in a high-rise located in Yerbana City, the two of you exchange quick greetings with the five who are currently traveling through hyperspace.

“What’s goin’ on, Rex?” The gentle giant asks with a grin and hands placed on his hips. The captain straightens his stance and crosses his armored arms across his chest plate, and instead of directing his impending response to Wrecker, Rex’s attention turns to Hunter, who’s leaned against the frame at the threshold of the cockpit. A moment passes as the two share a nonverbal understanding before Rex opens his mouth - the focusing pairs of eyes on one another.

“I wanted to see if your squad would be available to help me out.” You quietly observe each individual who are all appearing on your end as full-body projections, landing on Omega to where she’s sitting on top of their Gonk droid - her hands folded neatly in her lap, legs swinging.

“Name it.” Echo is quick to respond with a affirmative nod as he meets the eyes of each member - cutting off Hunter before the sergeant can get a word in. Rex’s oldest friend found himself caught at the receiving end of a very slight glare coming from directly across from him, and begins to backtrack. “I-”

“What is it, Captain?” Hunter interjects.

You sort of tune out the rest, having already been given the spiel by Rex long before you’d suggested for him to contact Hunter for some much-needed assistance. It’s a simple mission: scouting out an abandoned base in hopes to obtain supposedly valuable information from the obsolete Republic database and perhaps to also restock on munitions if there’s anything left there. Normally this would be something Rex could manage on his own, though his thoughts have been a little busy since the start of your extended stay in Yerbana. The two of you ended up taking a little much-needed ‘vacation’ in the repopulating capitol city after receiving the incredible news, and you’re just now getting back into the swing of things. Well, for the most part. Rex doesn’t quite trust his focus as of late with far too many other important things swarming around in his mind, and is worried that he'd make a mistake doing the mission solo, no matter how simple the objective appears to be.

Hunter accepts without resistance, and confirms that they'll meet the two of you just outside the abandoned base immediately after they’ve finished their current objective for Cid, which will probably be in another eighteen hours or so. Rex transmits the coordinates, and it falls silent; the awkward clearing of the throat coming from Rex crackles through the air on their end.

“Somethin’ else, Rex?”

“Actually, yeah. We have some news.” Rex grins and rubs at his nape, and you can't help but to smile wide at him from your position at his side. The squad members all share a glance - a mixture of raised, inquisitive brows and narrowed, concerned eyes. Hunter steps closer to the projection, caution engrained within the features of his half-inked face as he crosses his arms.

“Tell them, love,” your sweet voice of reassurance crackles with the brief wavering signal - your hand laying to rest on his pauldron. Rex chuckles down at his feet and grabs your hand to bring it up to his chest, squeezing gently as he begins to acknowledge the others.

“Everything okay, you two?”

“Based on their lifted expressions and display of affection towards one another, it appears that this ‘news’ is of a positive, exuberant nature.”

You can’t help but laugh at Tech being Tech, which results in mixed reactions at the other end of the call. Rex inhales deep - the air quietly seeping through his nostrils on the exhale. “We’re, uh- we’re gonna have a baby.” His lit up eyes drop to his boots and he’s smirking at his feet as soon as the words leave his lips. You watch as the multiple pair of eyes widen with smiles creeping their way onto each member of the squad’s faces, but the first person to audibly respond is Tech - his focus not lifting from the device held in his hands.

“Are you certain?” All heads snap in Tech’s direction to where he’s leaned forward in the pilot’s seat, elbows resting on his thighs, continuing to tap away at the datapad. Smacking his bother’s knee, Echo squints at Tech and shakes his head.

“Yes, Tech,” you giggle as your hand releases from Rex’s and moves to rest against the beginnings of your baby bump, though you’re unsure if they are able to see either one of you from the chest down. “The bun has been confirmed as baking in the oven. We risked a brief visit to the local med center here, so, we’re certain.”

“Well then.” Tech’s brows lift above the rim of his goggles as he readjusts the spectacles with a finger pushing between them. “Felicitations to you both. That is quite extraordinary news. It seems that I was correct in-”

“That’s so wonderful!” Omega exclaims with the largest grin - hopping off the GNK and clapping her hands excitedly as she approaches you. “When are you getting the baby? Are we going to see the baby when we meet them at the rendezvous, Hunter?”

“Of course you're going to see the baby, Omega,” you answer softly for Hunter, giving him a quick smile and nod, saving him from having to explain. “It won’t be for quite a few months, though. Not until after the baby is born.” Omega’s brows pinch together in confusion, and you cautiously elaborate, unsure of what she already knows as far as what the natural-born process entails. “The baby has to grow inside of me first, and that takes a little while.”

"Inside of you?" Her curiosity is absolutely adorable. She turns to her brothers - soft eyes flickering to each one of them.

"You see, Omega, when-"

"Uh, Tech?" Rex clears his throat, and the intelligent trooper is quick to get the hint - closing his mouth and resuming to silently tap at the datapad. Echo is next to chime in, and he’s smiling like a fool, eyes wide.

“You’re gonna be a dad, eh? Wow... that’s- that’s just incredible, brother.”

“I’m gonna be an uncle!” Wrecker very loudly exclaims, and Omega and you share giggles at his enthusiasm.

“Technically, Wrecker, we are all going to be ‘uncles’ since Rex is our brother, genetically speaking. Therefore, any offspring he may produce would be considered as our nieces and nephews. That is how the nat-borns conduct their family trees.” Tech punctuates his statement with a sure nod - speaking with his finger raised in the air so as to draw attention to his point.

You’re so lost in the way Rex’s eyes continue to positively sparkle with pride and adoration as his brothers and Omega shower the two of you with congratulatory praises that you’re forgetting to respond to all of them.

“We appreciate it, everyone,” you say with an ear-to-ear grin - beaming at Rex.

“We’ll see you all soon,” Rex concludes, “Stay safe out there.”

The holo vanishes as the transmission disconnects, leaving the squad on board the Marauder to go over some more details of their next objective as well as to process the news.

“So...” Wrecker turns around and leads Gonky back to where he was benching the power droid before the call. “What do ya think Rex is gonna do?”

Hunter raises the brow bordered with dark ink. “What do you mean?”

“Are they going to keep this up, now that they’re going to have a kid? You know, the missions and stuff?”

“We have Omega,” Tech inputs matter-of-factly as he prepares the ship for exit from hyperspace. “And we are managing just fine, barring our dwindling ration supply.” Omega smiles sheepishly, but nods with confidence.

“Rex is a good man.” Echo swivels his seat around and sits up straight, meeting the four pair of eyes now gazing back at him. “Always tried to do what was best for his men, his brothers, and still does, even if it's beyond his control or out of his hands. Now that Rex is... free,” Echo puts the most stress into that word as it’s spoken - glancing down at his feet and chewing the inside of his cheek before continuing, “He’s in control of his life, and is able to choose his own path. And that path will lead to what’s best for his family.”

<<<>>>

everyone tags:

@bvcketfvcker @deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @thefact0rygirl @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @14mcmd1122 @tacticalsparkles @cheesemachine44 @damerondala @buckethead-over-heels @purgetroopercody @socially-anxious-fangirl @cloneygoodness @marya-komar @beskarprincessjenny @awkward-katiesaur @katiebits1 @kawaiitimecharm @shiny-mando @sapphichorrorpictureshow @fat-zygerrian @foodandbooksplease @the-siren-writes-it @ken-obiwan @dinner-djarin @howie-ner-cyare @99squad @chewychewyque @obiwan-djarin @vaderthepotater @blackrose4242 @the-sad-batch @quantumowl @ashotofspotchka @queen-simp @kaorikoizumi @mylifeinthetardisforever @sitherin-mxschief @escapedthesarlacc @sydnubabu @megalinditron @whatanoof @4rosydreams @ahsoka1 @colorfulloverbatturkey @venomous-ko @monako-jinn-stories @paige6768 @diagonallie5400 @galacticgraffiti @commxnderwolffe @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @jediknightdjarin @nikolekenobi @clonecyare @bobafettuccini @rebelpitstop @rowansparrow @shiniest-captain @techs-hairline @no-idea-what-to-write-here @zazzysseoul @ladykatakuri @badbatch-simp24 @royal-stardust

clones only tags:

@sergeant-hunter @kriffclone @saberdeity @echofoxfives @alucas528 @captainrexscyarika @kirinpl @lastphoenixfalling @bambiswriting

#post-order 66 rex #djarrex writes #request #rex gayiyla #the Gayiyla family #captain rex x reader #captain rex x f!reader #star wars fic #captain rex #the bad batch

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archived-kin · 3 years

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petty ghost haunts their murderer but doesn’t actually do anything vengeful, more at eleven

note from kin: i don’t even know what this is myself to be honest but the simple way of putting it is that you were accidentally killed by one of satan’s fits of rage and now your ghost follows him around and messes with him at any given opportunity out of pettiness

basically i came up with the prompt ‘vengeful spirit is more of a slightly miffed and extremely petty spirit who doesn’t actually do much but inconvenience their hauntee, shenanigans ensue’ and ran with it

(as a heads up, reader is not mc in this situation, and this takes place before any of the exchange program stuff, so belphie’s not in the attic and solomon and the angels aren’t in the devildom)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn!reader, satan, beelzebub

pairing(s): satan/reader (though it isn’t particularly romantic since you’re, y’know, dead, so it’s more of a satan & reader)

warning(s): references to death, beel eats an entire rotisserie chicken

genre: crack (with a bit of fluff i guess???)

“For the last time, [Name], put the knife down.”

“Bite me, bitch-boy.”

Satan lets out a long-suffering sigh and sets down his mug of coffee, then reaches out and carefully pushes the floating butter knife pointed directly at his jugular back down onto the table. “I don’t know why you keep trying that. You do know it wouldn’t actually get through my skin even if you did manage to hit me, right?”

“It’s the thought that counts,” comes your disembodied voice from somewhere near the ceiling. You’ve probably decided to float up there to sulk like you always do after a failed attack.

“I’d prefer you didn’t think about it at all.”

A still-wet towel pulls itself from the rack on the wall and hits him square in the face. Satan gives an exasperated groan as it slides down his face and lands on the table with a soft splat.

“That’s what you get,” You sniff indignantly, finally materialising in front of him with a scowl. You’re floating upside down in a way that makes it look like you’re standing on the ceiling. “Buttface.”

“Come on, you can come up with better material than that,” Satan shakes his head, pushing back his chair and picking up the wet towel you’ve just flung at him to hang it back up again. “Where did all your creativity from yesterday go?”

“Six feet under with the remains of my body, probably,” you reply with a scowl. Then, as an afterthought, you add, “Confounded cheese wheel.”

“Oh, that’s a new one,” He comments, mildly surprised. “Where’d you pick that up?”

“Made it up myself. Ha!” You bob past him and through the wall, most likely to go terrorise Mammon by making his lights flicker on and off again. “Guess my creativity isn’t as dead as I am after all.”

“You still haven’t gotten over that, I see.” He sighs.

Your head immediately pops back out of the wall and glares across the room at him. “Excuse me?”

“It’s been weeks now - months, even,” Satan explains carefully as he sits back down at the table, not wanting to aggravate you further. The last time he'd brought something like this up, he’d ended up making you so angry that you’d managed to become physically corporeal enough to fling him across the room. “I would have thought you’d have passed on by now, that’s all. Surely it doesn’t take this long for the gates to the Celestial Realm to open?”

You consider his words, apparently appeased by their logic. “...I guess. Maybe I’m not passing on because I can’t rest in peace yet, like the ghosts do in horror films.”

“They’re films, you can’t expect to apply what happens in them to reality,” Satan replies flatly. “Besides, even if that was the situation, you've met all the criteria to 'rest in peace’, haven't you?”

“Are you trying to tell me, the dead one here, what merits as ‘resting in peace’?” You counter, floating back through the wall so that your entire body is in the room again. “My murderer’s still walking about like he doesn’t dress in the entire green colour spectrum and think it’s a good idea. How am I supposed to rest in peace knowing that?”

Satan looks down at his outfit, a little offended. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“What’s right with your clothes?” You shoot back, drifting over to him and passing a ghostly hand through his shoulder, apparently too lazy to muster up the energy to make your hand physical enough to touch him. “Look at it! Your blazer doesn’t even have lapels!”

“It isn’t a blazer.”

“Jacket, then.” You make a move as if to pinch at the fabric, but your fingers just pass right through it like a hot knife through butter. “It doesn’t even fit you. The sleeves are too short.”

Satan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to wear it if it didn’t fit me. Besides, why does it matter to you?”

“The demon I might be doomed to be attached to for the rest of my afterlife has the worst fashion sense in all three realms is the matter,” You sigh dramatically and float up to the ceiling again. “Why do you even wear rip-off jeans if you’re going to put a belt over it?”

“First of all, they aren’t rip-off jeans,” Satan tells you as you start idly making the kitchen light flicker. He should probably tell you to stop doing that whenever you get bored, but he’s gotten so used to it at this point that he can’t really be bothered to. “And, second of all, why does it matter if I’m wearing a belt on it?”

“Rip-off jeans are meant to be ripped off,” You explain with all the patience of a mother explaining something to a curious child, completely disregarding Satan’s first point. “Putting a belt on top of it kind makes that redundant.”

Satan thinks about it for a moment and begrudgingly comes to the conclusion that your statement is correct - not that it makes a difference to him. “...they’re still not rip-off jeans.”

“Think whatever you want to think, burro verde.”

“What?”

“It means green donkey in Spanish.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I took Spanish for, like, three years when I was in high school,” You shrug, and the light brightens and dims slightly with the movement of your shoulders, as if it’s shrugging with you. “Failed all the exams, but at least I got something worthwhile out of it.”

“Three years of linguistic lessons and all you learn is how to string together bizarre insults,” Satan shakes his head. “You really are incorrigible.”

“That’s a big word. You sure you know what it means?”

“Of course I do,” He gives you a slightly disgruntled look. “I wouldn’t use it if I didn’t. What do you take me for?”

“Someone who doesn’t know what incorrigible means, obviously.” You pretend to aim a kick at the spider perched quietly in the corner of the ceiling, but Timothy ignores your efforts to boot him from his web. After a moment, growing tired of bothering the little guy, you ask, “...what does it mean?”

Satan snickers, then answers, sounding as if he’s reading the definition directly out of a dictionary, “In reference to a person or their behaviour, unable to be changed or reformed.”

You contemplate his words for a few seconds. “Is that a good thing?”

“Not usually when that particular word is used for it, no.”

“Oh. Bitch.”

He pauses at that, moving his mug of now marginally cooler coffee away from his mouth again, having been in the middle of taking another sip when you decided to insult him again. “Where did that come from?”

“You called me incorrigible, which you just said is not a good thing to be,” You explain as if it’s obvious, frowning down at him. “So I’m taking it as an insult and insulting you back. Bitch.”

“You didn’t have to say it again.”

“I didn’t, but it’s fun to call you names.” You snort and glide down from the ceiling to float above the table, crossing your legs and pretending to sit down on it. “It’s not as fun as it used to be, though. You never get all puffed up about it anymore.”

“That’s your own fault for doing it so much that I got used to it,” Satan reproaches. “Besides, it was pointless getting angry. It’s not like I can do anything to you in return.”

“You could ignore me and pretend I don’t exist or something.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“No!” You hurriedly throw up your hands in a gesture of surrender and shake your head so hard that Satan swears he actually feels a breeze - an even more impressive achievement considering that your body isn’t even tangible. “Please don’t. You’re the only being in the entire universe that I can actually interact with.”

“Sometimes I wonder if that is a good thing,” Satan mutters.

“It’s a good thing for me, and that’s all that matters,” You reply, unfazed.

No one other than Satan appears to have the ability to see you, which is an odd thing in and of itself. Ghosts aren’t a foreign thing to the Devildom - they’re so common that you could probably just walk into a convenience store and find one shelving cans of soup - but you don’t seem to follow any of the rules that they do. Sometimes Satan wonders if you’re able to actively choose to not allow his brothers to see you as you drift around the house, but then again, he’s pretty sure that, if you had the option to make Lucifer watch you pretend to fist fight that weird skeleton hanging in his room, you definitely would.

Satan doesn’t pretend to understand the laws of your otherworldly existence - he’s read so many variations on the rules behind lingering spirits like you that he can scarcely tell the difference between pure fiction and actual logical hypothesis. It’s easy enough to wrangle you into behaving for a day so that he can observe you properly by promising to leave his radio on for you while he’s out, but the observations themselves never seem to lead to anything. He knows that you’re able to pass through any physical object (as far as he knows), can make lights (of both the electronic and candle variety) flicker at will, can muster up enough physicality to move and touch things if you try, and can phase in and out of perceivable view, but he doesn’t know why you can do any of those things.

“Quit trying to come up with explanations for everything,” You’d told him wisely a month or so ago, when you’d floated in on him muttering to himself about the possibility of something called ‘ether energy’. “You’re just gonna give yourself a headache.”

Then you’d started making his candles flicker like disco lights until he stopped.

“...but I don’t think he spotted me, since he probably would’ve commented on the floating meat cleaver if he did, and— hey, big guy!”

That last exclamation is aimed at Beel, who has just walked into the kitchen and is now rummaging unceremoniously through the fridge, most likely in search of something to eat. At this point Satan’s pretty sure that you still don’t know any of his brothers’ names - at the very least, even if you do, you’ve never called them by them.

Beel continues to sort through the various already empty boxes and containers in the fridge as you start zooming back and forth through him, marvelling over the sheer broadness of his chest and shoulders. It isn’t the first time you’ve done this to him - or indeed any of the brothers - but Satan can tell that it’s more innocent awe than any kind of objectification or intent to harm, so he doesn’t mind. As mischievous as you are, he’s pretty sure you don’t have a genuinely malicious or wanton bone in your body... well, you don’t have any bones anymore - or a body, for that matter - but the point still stands.

“Hungry?” He guesses, but it’s honestly more of a statement. It is Beel, after all.

The Avatar of Gluttony withdraws from his search briefly to offer a nod. “I didn’t get to finish all of my lunch.”

“Well, there’s a surprise,” You comment as Beel sticks his head back into the fridge, finally tiring of buffeting yourself back and forth like a pendulum and choosing to start hovering just over the second youngest’s shoulders to watch his hunt. “Wonder what he was up to that got him to stop eating.”

Satan opens his mouth to reply, then stops and closes it again. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Beel with the not-really-a-secret of your existence, but he’s sure that at some point or another, Beel will end up letting it slip to Lucifer, who would most likely want to know why your death ended up attaching your spirit to his brother, and Satan’s already gone to great lengths to make sure that the oldest won’t find out about the rampage he went on that cost you your life in the first place. It'd just be a waste of that effort for Lucifer to find out anyway. Besides, it isn’t like the information will make much difference to Beel - he can’t see or hear you, and you’re pretty harmless, so there wouldn’t be any need for him to get involved in the situation anyway.

You, meanwhile, are well aware that Satan isn’t going to be saying anything to you while one of his brothers is in the room - you don’t really understand his reasoning for it, since you like to think that you’re a pleasure of a ghost to know, but you suppose you can’t really force him to make any decisions. Besides, you’re pretty content with the way things are right now; you don’t want to complicate the situation by bringing in another demon who, as far as you know, might just smite you on the spot if they find out about your existence.

Instead, you busy yourself with watching in fascination as Beel somehow pulls what looks like a rotisserie chicken from the very back of the fridge and shove the whole thing in this mouth. You exchange slightly disturbed looks with Satan as he begins to chew - you’re pretty sure you’ve just seen him dislocate his jaw like a snake to fit it in there.

“You might want to calm down, Beel,” Satan advises after a brief moment’s stunned silence, though even he knows that it’s a fruitless warning. “You’ll end up choking.”

Beel nods, but makes absolutely no move to slow in his aggressive chewing.

“This must be what the peak of evolution looks like,” You say in bemused awe as Beel finishes eating. The entire chicken has disappeared down his throat - bones and all. “How the hell does he manage that?”

Satan doesn’t answer, but his subtle shrug says that your guess is as good as his.

Much to your surprise and Satan’s resignation, Beel immediately goes back to the fridge, apparently unsatisfied by the copious amount of fowl he’s just eaten. To be honest, you feel sorry for the guy - while the you from when you’d still been able to eat would have done some unspeakable things to be able to consume as much as he does and still remain that fit, you’re sure that the black hole he calls a stomach must be an awful thing to have to deal with. At least he gets to enjoy a lot of food because of it, though you suppose it’s a double-edged sword if he’s also constantly being scolded for it. Personally, you don’t understand the reasoning behind telling someone off for eating as much food as they need, but they are demons. You probably shouldn’t expect them to have that level of compassion.

By the time you break out of your train of thought, Beel has found something else to eat amidst the many empty boxes in the fridge. It’s much smaller than the rotisserie chicken - some kind of pastry with a dollop of snowy white cream on top, decorated with a few lines of melted chocolate to look like a cat’s face. In fact, it looks almost identical to…

“Hey, wait!” You swipe a useless hand through Beel’s arm as he raises the pastry to his mouth. “Don’t eat that—!”

Too late. The pastry disappears into Beel’s mouth, and you drift backwards again, letting out a defeated groan. Satan shoots you a curious look - you can’t eat, after all, so why are you so upset about Beel eating that pastry? Is there something special about it?

His question is answered when he actually turns to look at his younger brother. The Avatar of Gluttony has gone rigid on the spot and is blinking rapidly, his eyes the size of moons.

“Beel…?” Satan questions hesitantly. “Are you feeling alright?”

Beel takes a long moment to respond, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Satan takes a closer look and realises that Beel’s pupils seem to have dilated to an almost impossible degree, resembling a cat’s eyes when it’s about to go absolutely feral. Whatever it is was in that pastry, it’s definitely hit him hard.

Now, Satan isn’t one to interrupt good fun when it’s about to happen, so instead of stepping in and performing some sort of spell that might help on his possibly-high brother like a good guy, he sits back and watches as Beel’s head swings around the room as if he's never seen anything in it before like the mischief-loving little shit he is. Beel himself doesn’t appear to be negatively affected, so it can’t be that bad, right?

You float cautiously around the giant as his hands ball into fists. His entire body is trembling slightly with pent-up energy. Then, a split second later, as if he’s been zapped by some catalystic bolt of lightning, he abruptly snaps back on his heel and positively zooms out of the room. You can practically see the cartoony cloud of dust that he’s kicking up as he disappears down the corridor.

“He’s absolutely zooted right now,” You comment, flipping upside with a resigned sigh and crossing your arms a little grumpily. “I told him not to eat it.”

“He couldn’t hear you, you know,” Satan says, moving over to the fridge and slamming it shut, since Beel has neglected to. “What was even in that thing?”

You shrug. “Don’t know. I’ve just been calling it demon-nip.”

“I suppose that it does to demons what catnip does to cats, then?” Satan doesn’t even wait for you to answer before continuing - rude. “How did you even get a hold of it? Never mind that, how did you manage to get it in a pastry and put it in the fridge?”

“I got some help from one of the poltergeists downtown to make it,” You wave your hands about dismissively. “You should pay more attention when you go out. I disappeared for, like, five hours, and you didn’t even notice.”

“When even was this?”

“Tuesday, I think. Remember when you bought that giant bag of cat paw-shaped biscuits and then accidentally dropped the bag in the hall and got them everywhere?”

You don’t miss the way that the tips of his ears go slightly pink as he coughs subtly and averts his gaze. “...why would the poltergeists help you? They hate humans.”

“I don’t know, actually…” You ponder for a moment, then decide, “...probably because I’m cute.”

“Are you?” Satan deadpans. “Cute is what you’d call a cat. You’re just… tolerable.”

“Oh, fuck you, I think I’m adorable.” You huff, flying over and poking him hard in the side of the head. Satan hisses in pain and reaches up to rub the sore spot, but he supposes he should have seen that blow coming - you’re never too humble to make yourself physical enough to hit him after an insult.

“Where did that idea even come from?” He asks quickly, not wanting to take another attack. You may be a mere imprint of a dead human, but your fingers are sharp, and he’d prefer not to provoke you further if he can avoid it.

His change of subject is so abrupt and obvious that it’s almost laughable, but you choose not to call him out on it. As much as you’d like to set him on fire or something, he hasn’t given you a really good reason to commit arson yet, and you’d just end up feeling bad for doing it. Well, to be fair, he did kill you… but still, you don’t want to keep holding that over his head.

“I read it in a book.” You answer. Satan’s eyes light up slightly.

“Do you remember the title?” He asks almost eagerly, and you disguise a snicker. His intentions are practically painted in bright red paint across his face - he’s hoping that there’ll be more schemes like the one you’ve performed that he can use against that sadist of an older brother of his.

Unfortunately for him, the book doesn’t exist. “Yeah. It’s called One Hundred Ways To Get Back At The Ass That Killed You, Free Of Murder and Actual Crimes That Might Get You Persecuted And Sent To Super Hell.”

Satan clearly isn’t thinking very hard today, because for a moment he actually looks as if he believes you - you suppose it’s because he’s grown desensitised to the oddness of such long titles after hearing so many weirdly specific anime titles from the otaku brother that you still have yet to see come out of his room. (You’ve floated in a few times to have a look around and appreciate the decor, but other than that, you’ve barely even seen his face. You’re not even sure what his name is, to be honest…)

He realises what you’re getting at after a moment, though, and immediately frowns at you in disapproval. You just grin, pleased with your small victory.

“You're insufferable,” He says, shaking his head with an long sigh.

“No, I'm cute,” You counter, frowning. “Weren't you listening to me earlier?”

He throws his hands up hastily as you drift forward with a hand brandished and a nasty glint in your eye, unwilling to get jabbed at again. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

You, however, don't relent. Eyes narrowing, you float even closer - so close that, if you'd been physical, he’d have been able to feel your breath on his face. “Say it.”

Satan may be one of the seven most powerful demons in the Devildom (below Diavolo, of course, and possibly Barbatos), but the aggression of a pissed-off ghost, especially if that ghost is you, isn't anything he wants to be on the receiving end of right now. “Fine, fine! You're adorable, you're cute, whatever. Now will you leave me alone?”

You finally pull back, beaming in a gratified fashion. “That's all I wanted to hear!”

Satan gives you an irritated look as you drift back across the kitchen, a satisfied grin on your face. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve said that already,” You sing back, laughing in victory when you see his eyebrow twitch slightly in annoyance. “And you had the nerve to lecture me about creativity earlier! Why don’t you come up with better material, Mr Shoes-Up-My-Ass?”

He doesn’t reply for a good moment, attempting to think of a insult to counter your admittedly slightly juvenile one. Try as he might, though, all of his good jibes seem to have evaporated. “...shut up.”

His pathetic response, of course, immediately compels you to take the piss out of him. Clutching your chest dramatically, as if Satan’s just stabbed you with the knife you’d been waving about earlier, you wail, “Oh, thy words do wound me! 'Tis like thou hath rip’d my heart out with thy own hands!”

Satan glares you for a long moment, but he doesn’t have the heart to keep it up when you’re grinning so brightly. Honestly, you’re a nuisance and a brat sometimes, sure, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t consider you his closest friend at this point. “...do you even know how to use those words?”

You drop the act faster than Asmo throws it down on a Saturday night, shrugging and floating back over to hover just above the chair across from Satan’s. “Nope. It sounded right, though, right?”

“I haven’t read enough works in Old English to know,” Satan admits with a shake of his head. “But it did, I suppose…”

It’s kind of weird that he’s agreeing so easily, you think. Has he just had enough of your bullshit and is complying with to keep you quiet? Or has he just finally seen the light of your brilliance?

...well, you suppose it doesn’t matter. You grin and move to ruffle his hair, but forget to make your hand physical and instead end up flying right through his head. Satan shudders slightly - though he doesn’t feel it, it’s still weird to have an entire hand and arm go through his cranium.

“Could you not?” He complains as you right yourself and pull your hand back again. “This feels weird.”

“Baby.”

“Pet names aren’t going to do anything,” He sighs, pulling his chair to the side so that he’s no longer half-inside your torso. “Hands to yourself.”

“No, it was an insult,” You correct him. “I was calling you a baby. Though bitch-boy works too.”

Satan lets out a long sigh. Now you’re just back where you started.

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me imagines #satan x reader #except it's more of a satan & reader #crack #ghosts #swd satan #swd beelzebub #I've taken a look through my obey me drafts and noticed a pattern #if i'm writing about one of the brothers beel always seems to show up as a cameo #now that i think about it this prompt has some real angst potential...#unfortunately i seem to incapable of writing anything but fluf and funny in these trying times #anyway i hope you enjoyed this!!#the ending is super abrupt but i've already spent too long on this thing so just TAKE IT

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aspoonofsugar · 3 years

Text

Jaune: Zero to Hero

Pyrrha: It's not about why; it's about knowing. Understanding dark and light helps us manifest our Aura. Everyone has some of both.

Knowledge, Creation and Destruction all lead up to Aura. This is just another way to say that they lead up to individuality, which is something Grimms lack:

Pyrrha: They are creatures of Grimm, the manifestation of anonymity.

Individuality is conveyed through Choice. This is why Choice is the most important and final gift. It is symbolic of self-actualization, which is what our characters are pursuing in their coming of age story.

Jaune’s personal arc comments the group’s collective journey and marks each stage very clearly.

In which way does it happen? And what do these stages mean for Jaune’s growth as an individual?

THE IGNORANT WARRIOR

Pyrrha: Jaune, do you... know what Aura is?

Jaune: Psch! Of course I do! Do you know what Aura is?

Jaune is introduced as inexperienced and ignorant. He lacks combat experience and knows nothing about key concepts like Aura, Landing Strategy or Semblances.

His journey starts because Pyrrha shares her knowledge with him:

She awakens his aura, his very soul and later on trains him, so she helps his body get stronger:

In other words, Pyrrha is the one who puts Jaune on the right path to become a true “hero” and a “warrior”.

This is Jaune’s objective since the beginning, but he initially pursues it in the wrong way:

Jaune: I don't want help! I don't want to be the damsel in distress! I want to be the hero!

He is fixated on an idea of hero which is outdated and has its root in toxic masculinity:

Jaune: Cause this is always what I've wanted to be! My father, my grandfather, and his father before him were all warriors! They were all heroes! I wanted to be one, too. I was just never good enough.

This is why symbolically Jaune wants to be like his male ancestors. He wants to grow into “a real man”:

Cardin: Let's see how much of a man you really are...

And this is conveyed also through his Weapon:

Jaune: It's a hand-me-down. My great-great-grandfather used it to fight in the war.

Jaune did not forge his own Weapon, but he inherited it. Crocea Mors initially represents the legacy he wants to live up to. However, this legacy, instead of driving him, slows him down because he can’t grow until he remains in his ancestors’ shadow. Jaune needs to develop his own individuality instead.

In order to do so, he needs to grow not only as a figther, but as a person too.

As a matter of fact, Jaune’s ignorance is not only limited to the world he has stepped into, but also to the people around him:

Jaune: That's easy for you to say. You've probably got guys clamoring over each other just to ask you out.

Pyrrha: You'd be surprised.

He is so self-focused that he does not notice others’ feelings and hurts them unintentionally.

However, Pyrrha teaches him once again:

Pyrrha:Tell her exactly what you said. No ridiculous schemes, no pick-up lines. Just... be honest.

It is thanks to her that Jaune manages to become a better man:

He is even able to call Neptune out the way Pyrrha did with him:

Jaune: Then just go talk to her. No pickup lines, no suave moves, just be yourself. I've heard that's the way to go.

And as a result, even Jaune’s relationship with Weiss gets better:

Weiss: You said you were embarrassed at first. What made you come talk to me?

Neptune: You're looking at him. You got some good friends looking out for ya.

Because the girl realizes Jaune is not only after her money or her romantic attention:

Weiss: All my life, boys have only cared about the perks of my last name.

But wants to genuinely be a good friend to her.

In short, Jaune starts the story as immature both as a fighter and as a person to the point that he is considered unfit and annoying by other characters:

Glynda: I don't care what his transcripts say. That Jaune fellow is not ready for this level of combat.

However, thanks to Pyrrha, he is given the chance to mature.

Not only that, but while other characters see a weakness and a nuisance in Jaune’s ignorance and inexperience, Pyrrha sees it as a possibility:

Weiss: Jaune, is it? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?

Jaune: Not in the slightest, snow angel.

Weiss: This is Pyrrha.

It is specifically because Jaune is new to Pyrrha’s world that he is free from bias:

Pyrrha: That's what I like about you. When we met, you didn't even know my name. You treated me just like anyone else. And thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime. I guess, you're the kind of guy I wish I was here with. Someone who just saw me for me.

This is why Pyrrha feels she can forge a genuine bond with Jaune. What is more, the girl has faith in his potential:

Pyrrha: It's all right. I used my Aura to unlock yours, but the energy that protects you now is your own. You have a lot of it.

She sees in him what others do not and helps him develop both as a man and as a warrior.

This is well highlighted by the metal motif the two characters share.

As @hamliet explains here Rwby has several characters linked to the seven metals of alchemy.

The goal of alchemy is to create gold thanks to a process of refiniment that purifies the metal and has it go through several transformations.

The seven metals are nothing, but a scale that goes from the heaviest and most raw metal (lead) to the most purified (gold) passing through the others (tin, iron, copper, mercury, silver).

For a story, it simply means that a character goes through a process of change that leads to self-actualization.

In Rwby this idea is conveyed through specific characters embodying a metal (Ironwood, Penny, Mercury) or even thanks to metal motifs commenting a specific part of a character arc.

For example, Yang is associated with gold:

I am the golden one Who burns just like the sun

But Adam takes her arm away and has her regress in the scale of metals to iron. This regression is not simply physical, but psychological as well:

However, Yang re-affirms herself and moves forward. The first step of this process is to symbolically make her new arm “gold” again:

When it comes to Jaune, I think that he may be the character associated with lead aka the “prima materia” that needs to be molded into gold. Even if this is not true, metal is at least definately still a motif in his arc, as it is in Pyrrha’s. This is why both characters wear metal armors, differently from others.

Pyrrha is already close to her self-actualization and she reaches it in the climax of the Vale arc, where she completes her (tragic) arc and dies a Maiden.

This is why her armor is gold, while Jaune’s is white and gray. Pyrrha is at the top of the metal scale and close to the end of her journey, while Jaune is respectively at the very bottom and at the very beginning.

He is the embodyment of the prima materia that has potential for greatness, but only if he is rightly guided and if he himself works hard.

Pyrrha takes over herself the duty to help Jaune mold himself.

This is underlined also by Pyrrha’s semblance:

Pyrrha: Well, Ruby has her speed, you have your glyphs. My Semblance is polarity.

Pyrrha can control and bend metals and she shows her power for the first time when she helps Jaune against the Ursa, so that he can overcome his self-issues.

So, Jaune starts the story as the lead and is going through a path of self-refinement which will lead him to become gold, so more similar to Pyrrha herself.

Pyrrha offers him the basic knowledge to start this journey, but unluckily leaves him too soon and now Jaune has to move forward on his own.

THE CREATIVE AVENGER

Pyrrha: I want you to know that I'm just happy to be a part of your life. I'll always be here for you, Jaune.

Even after Pyrrha’s death, this stays true:

Blacksmith: That was some fine metal you brought me. Accents the white nicely. Where'd you get it from?

Pyrrha has become a part of Jaune.

This is a recurring motif in Rwby:

Penny: I won’t be gone, I’ll be part of you.

It is the idea that grieving is a process that leads to acceptance, but also to integration with a lost one. It is a way to have the deceased keep on living through the survivors.

In Jaune and Pyrrha’s case, this is conveyed through Pyrrha’s metal being used to enrich Jaune’s Weapon.

As stated by Ruby:

Ruby: Just weapons? They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us! Oh, they're so cool.

Weapons are symbolic of the self, just like Semblances.

What is more, Weapons and Semblances are also a declination of the dychotomy of body and soul, presented by the series.

Weapons are wielded by bodies, while Semblances are a materialization of the soul.

In other words, Pyrrha’s gold becoming a part of Jaune’s Weapon is symbolic of Jaune’s first step in a painful process that will lead him to overcome his partner’s death and to inherit Pyrrha’s legacy.

Jaune must keep on learning from Pyrrha and become more like her. As noted by @hamliet, this is symbolized also by Jaune’s design aquiring more golden details as he goes on in his journey:

Jaune: Guess I was going to grow out of it eventually.

Ren: A sign of progress.

Jaune: Progress.

That said, grieving is not easy and Jaune must struggle with much pain and negative feelings.

This is why the changes he makes to Crocea Mors are finalized to increase its attack power:

It is because Jaune feels anger over Pyrrha’s death and wants revenge.

In the Battle of Haven he gives in to his fury and tries to kill Cinder. He is trying to superficially imitate Pyrrha’s sacrifice:

Jaune: If I die buying them time, then it's worth it. They're the ones that matter.

However, he is not doing it out of bravery or necessity, but out of recklessness and self-hate. This is why his actions lead to this:

Once again, Jaune risks to lose another loved one:

Jaune: No, no, no, no, not again! Weiss, c'mon, please!!

However, this time he is able to save Weiss thanks to his Semblance:

Jaune: My Semblance?

Nora: How else do you think you're healing her, dummy?

Jaune gives up on using his Weapon to fight and chooses to use his Semblance to cure. He chooses soul over body and Creation over Destruction.

At the same time, Jaune’s activation of his Semblance is meaningful on two levels:

Jaune: No. I don't think I'm healing her. Our Aura heals our bodies. It feels... it feels more like I'm using my Aura to amplify hers!

Nora: Wait, aren't you worried about running out?

Jaune: Pyrrha once told me I've got a lot of it. I still believe her.

First of all, Jaune’s Semblance is rooted in the idea that people heal themselves. His power is not to cure others, but to amplify others’ auras, so that they can become stronger and can heal. It is about bringing out the best in others. It is a power fit for a leader, but also an ability symbolic of Jaune’s own process of healing. He can heal himself through helping others to heal.

Secondly, Jaune’s Semblance is in itself a nod to Pyrrha. Pyrrha used her own aura to awake his and Aura Amp is simply an evolution of this idea. It is not about activating others’ auras, but it is a power that lets Jaune share his. It also makes good use of something Pyrrha noticed immediately aka Jaune’s huge quantity of aura.

In other words, Jaune ends up acting like Pyrrha in the Battle of Haven, but not because he fights Cinder, but because he shares his gift with others, just like Pyrrha did with hers.

Pyrrha is a part of Jaune both in body (Crocea Mors) and soul (Aura Amp), but Jaune must still truly understand what this means.

He makes progress in Lost:

Red-Haired Woman: She understood that she had a responsibility... to try. I don't think she would regret her choice, because a Huntress would understand that there really wasn't a choice to make. And a Huntress is what she always wanted to be.

This is the essence of Pyrrha’s sacrifice. Jaune comes to understand it and chooses to make a similar choice together with his team:

Jaune: I think... I think she knew she wasn't going to win. That she might not come out alive. But... she also knew she was the only one that could try.

Ren: So she did.

Nora: Maybe we should too.

Jaune: Yeah, we should.

In this way, it will be as if Pyrrha were fighting together with them:

Nora: Pyrrha may not be by our side anymore, but we can fight like she is.

Jaune: And in a way... she will be.

Jaune tries to overcome his anger and his sadness for Pyrrha’s death in order to keep fighting like she did.

So, once again he chooses this:

Ruby: I wanted to protect my friends.

Maria: Precisely! It is the desire to preserve life which fuels the light inside you. And to make no mistake, it is light. Preservation is an extension of creation, or, at the very least, an enemy of destruction. The Creatures of Grimm were made by the God of Darkness, but your light comes from his brother.

He chooses to protect life and this is the essence of Creation.

Once he confirms this choice, he is free to explore Creation’s potential and he does so in the land of Creation itself, Atlas.

He strengthens his shield instead of his sword:

And he trains his Semblance:

Oscar: Nice, your recovery is getting faster.

This all leads him to become stronger psychologically:

Ren: Him on the other hand... There's no fear at all. I can see it, he believes we're going to get this done.

That said, Jaune starts meeting limits to his new found strength rooted in Creation:

Jaune: Ah, sorry. No matter how much I boost you, they won’t go away.

Jaune: Did... I stop the virus?

Penny: No. It’s still there.

Jaune’s way to move forward is to heal himself through healing others. Still, what to do when this is not possible?

THE DESTRUCTIVE HEALER

Penny: No… there’s not enough time to heal me…

Penny: But there is something you can do…

What happens in Atlas is an inversion of Haven.

Penny pushes Jaune’s Semblance away and touches Crocea Mors.

Jaune is asked to give up on healing her and to speed up her death instead. He is asked to choose his Weapon (body) over his Semblance (soul) and Destruction over Creation.

This marks the characters entering the Destruction phase:

Leaving Creation (Penny) behind.

For Jaune, this means that his own self image that he has worked so much to build and to make his own:

And that has been enriched in Anima thanks to Pyrrha...is shattered:

At the same time, he is once again put in a similar spot as Pyrrha:

They both become unwilling agents of Penny’s death because of Cinder (and Emerald and Mercury in the first case):

Pyrrha: Ruby, I... I'm so sorry.

Ruby: Me too. But it wasn't your fault.

Jaune: She's right. Whoever was on that microphone... they're the ones that did this. And we have to make sure they don't take anyone else.

So Jaune’s journey to integrate with Pyrrha, to understand her and her struggle continues.

What now?

It is too soon to say because we have yet to properly start our journey through Destruction and what it is about.

That said, there are two things that are worth highlighting. The first is a motif Rwby is following, while the second is a general theme found in many stories.

1) As @hamliet has stated in many metas and as I have written here, Rwby is an alchemical story. Alchemical stories are usually marked by three important deaths. Each death is symbolically linked to a color. They are usually black, white and red. However, sometimes there can be yellow instead of the white or the red. This is the case here, where a resonant death is the yellow death aka Penny’s.

It is a death that happens while the characters are surrounded by yellow:

And it happens through a weapon called “Yellow Death” (Crocea Mors’s meaning). So, it is really not subtle. Penny’s death is meant to mark an important passage for our protagonists, just like Pyrrha’s one (the black death).

2) It is common in stories that deal with healers to explore the concept of death as well.

The basic idea is that a healer is a person meant to cure. That said, they will meet people impossible to cure and that will die on their watch. This is an unescapable truth a true healer must live with.

Let’s highlight this theme is found in works very different for genre and culture.

Let’s have two examples.

Scrubs aka an American comedy about doctors deals with this theme multiple times. In many episodes the characters must simply accept they can’t save a life, but must still not lose hope and keep on living themselves.

Yosano from the manga BSD says so:

Her backstory explores the link bewteen life and death further since it is shown that a power that cures fatal wounds can be used to cheapen life itself:

It is too soon to say if Rwby will explore a similar theme, but the fact that Jaune, (the healer) is the one that has to speed up Penny’s death might be a very powerful and poignant choice. This is true especially because Rwby does not refuse Destruction (and so does not refuse death), but presents it as a principle equal to Creation (so as a part of life).

THE CHOOSING HERO

Jaune’s arc is about living Pyrrha’s death over and over again with different scenarios and outcomes. This happens so that in the end he can finally overcome it.

So far, it has happened three times and each time has been in the climax of an important battle.

The Battle of Beacon has him witness powerlessly to Pyrrha’s death (lack of knowledge and passivity).

The Battle of Haven has him saving Weiss (creation).

The Battle of Atlas has him killing Penny (destruction).

What is more, every time Jaune becomes more proactive and conscious of what he is doing.

In Beacon he has no idea of what is happening. He works with little information and things happen to him without him being able to do anything.

In Haven his actions lead to Weiss being in danger, but he manages to save her. That said, he does not do it consciously. He unlocks his Semblance because of emotional stress. It is an unconscious choice and not a conscious one.

In Atlas he makes a specific conscious choice, but it is a choice that is forced on him because of external circumstances. It is also a choice that is meant to challenge and temporally break him.

In other words, he is slowly and painfully approaching Choice aka self-actualization. Right now, he has to face the consequences of Penny’s death, but this will probably lead him to finally enter the Choice stage and to complete his arc by becoming a “hero” aka gold (probably).

At the same time, this final choice will also be about healing and overcoming grief. It will be the final integration with Pyrrha and him being able to honor her legacy.

After all, we have been told from the beginning what Pyrrha’s fate would have been. We’ve just failed to notice:

Pyrrha: For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death. I release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee.

June and Pyrrha’s bond is eternal and she is meant to be the key character in Jaune’s arc. It is only through confronting and finally overcoming her loss that Jaune can finally self actualize and become the person Pyrrha has always known he could be. Pyrrha will symbolically be with him in this struggle. Her memory will protect and inspire him.

#rwby #rwby meta #jaune arc #arkos #rwby arkos #pyrrha nikos #tw: penny's death #jaune x pyrrha #my meta

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

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Stray Kids Reaction | Kissing In The Cold [Request] [Song]

Stray Kids X GN!Reader

A/N: I hadn’t listened to the song until recently and I love it 🥺🥺 I hope you enjoy this!

CHAN: We’ll still be kissing in the cold

It was below freezing as you and Chan walked along the cheonggyecheon river together, hand in hand as you spoke about how his day had been.

"Long," He grumbled as he crossed the river with you, laughing as you almost slipped into the water but stumbled into his arms on the safety of the pavement.

"It's freezing, aren't you two worried about getting sick?" An elderly man questioned as he walked up to you both, he was carrying a hot chocolate as he headed home for the day. He was happy to still see so many couples coming to the river to spend time together like this,

"No, we're okay." Chan chuckled, bowing as the man left you both alone.

"Hey, you know what I haven't done yet," Chan pouted as he pulled you to the back edge of the path, leaning against the wall as he looked at you.

"What?" You questioned looking up at him, all he did was lean down and kiss you softly, smiling as he felt his whole body warm-up from the smallest of touches.

"Well I'm glad you did it," You laughed as he pulled away, only to kiss him once again when you missed the touch of his skin. It didn’t matter how cold or wet it was outside, the two of you would always do this because you warmed up whenever you touched one another.

MINHO: Winter comes around and snow is coming down

"I smell snow," You whispered to Minho who was still half-asleep after you rudely woke him up, it was the middle of the night and you were convinced it was going to snow. You had been convinced all week long but this time you knew you were right, the balcony doors in your bedroom were wide open as you sat on the edge of the bed just staring out at the night sky.

"It's freezing, we can wait for the "snow" with the doors shut," Minho mumbled grumpily as he stared at you, he loved to see how happy the snow made you but it didn't mean he was appreciative of being woken up at 3 am.

"How do you even know it's going to snow-" He stopped talking when he saw it, small snowflakes beginning to fall down in the dark sky, landing on the balcony and settling in different spots. It wasn't long before it started to come down heavier and you got up to shut the doors, not wanting the snow to ruin the room.

"I told you I could smell snow," You giggled excitedly, Minho said nothing as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Pulling you to sit between his legs as you both watched the snow falling from the sky while you laid in bed together.

CHANGBIN: Drinking whiskey by the fire bundled up

Changbin couldn't help but laugh at the face you pulled after drinking the small glass of whiskey he'd given to you, neglecting to give you a warning about the burning you would feel at the back of your throat.

"You okay?" He chuckled as you hissed at the taste, covering your mouth as you handed him the glass back while shaking your head. He knew it was wrong to laugh at you while you were clearly disgusted by something but he couldn't help it, the way your eyebrows knotted together and your face scrunched up only made him laugh harder.

"Just cuddle me," You whined at him as you snuggled down beside him on the floor, the two of you were away at a small log cabin for the weekend. Changbin needed the creative break and you wanted to go with him, going out to a snow lodge and spending time alone together. Bundled up together in front of a warm fire while drinking whiskey, it was something Changbin had seen in the movies and figured you would both like. He was right on the cuddling part but the whiskey part not so much,

"No to the whiskey then?" He questioned as he wrapped his arms around your body, making sure you were both covered by the warm blankets as he got comfortable with you. You shook your head, whining at the thought of the taste and Changbin chuckled once again while he put a movie on.

HYUNJIN: Another friend who moves away.

The moving van had been parked outside your best friends house for about an hour, you'd came out to see your friend off and stayed on your porch to watch for a while. Coming out into the cold air Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you from behind, smiling as he felt your body relax against his touch, you were standing on the porch looking out at the moving van that was across the road. Another one of your close friends was moving out of the village and into the city and he knew you were feeling a little upset over the whole thing.

"Are you alright?" He knew it was a dumb question to ask since you so clearly weren't alright, you had tears welling up in the corners of your eyes but you nodded, turning around to look up at him.

"I just...I don't want anyone else to leave," You mumbled as he smiled weakly at you, it wasn't that you were going to lose a friend to the countryside it was that everyone you'd known was leaving the small village you lived in. Reaching his hand up to your face his ran his thumb along your cheek trying to give you some comfort without words, he knew there was nothing that he could say to you to make you feel better about the whole situation. It was just one of those things that happened, people grew older and moved away.

"Come on, I'll cook us something to eat." He offered as he tried to pull you into the house but you didn't budge, you turned to look at your friend who was now waving goodbye to you from her car. A giant smile plastered across her face as she went to start her new life in the city.

"Do you think we should move?" You questioned as Hyunjin wrapped you up in a coat since you weren't going to head inside anytime soon, he shook his head at you kissing your shoulder as he rubbed your arms trying to warm you up.

"I think we should stay where we're happy," You smiled as you snuggled into Hyunjin's arms, he placed another kiss on the top of your head whispering for you to head inside since it was starting to snow and you followed him in.

JISUNG: Laughing at how gross we love

The boys all pretended to be sick while you and Jisung cuddled up on the dorm sofa, snuggled up to one another as you acted as though you were young teenagers in love. Noses pressed against one another as you rubbed them together,

"I think I'm going to be sick if I have to watch one more second of this," Seungmin joked as he got up from the sofa and headed into his room instead of watching the two of you together.

"Seriously, can't you be gross somewhere else?" Minho laughed as you both stared over at him. You rested your head on Jisung's shoulder and smiled happily, you weren't as loving like this together all the time. It was only when you wanted to gross the boys out and clear the room that you acted this way.

"I can't help that I love my baby so very much, oh yes I do, oh yes I do, do, dooooo," Jisung cooed as if he was talking to a newborn baby and you began laughing softly at the disgusted look you got from Chan this time who was normally the one quiet in these situations.

"I can't deal," You whined, moving away from Jisung so you could have some space between you both. Neither of you were as clingy and cute as you led on, your relationship together was casual but still filled with love. You just didn't see the need to be over the top like most couples did.

FELIX: My sister has a baby now the other is writing vows

Felix chuckled as he watched you bouncing the baby up and down in your arms, your eyes lighting up as you looked down at the sleeping infant in your arms,

"I want one." You mumbled to him as you bounced over to him, being extra careful not to wake the baby up as he looked over your shoulder at her.

"She is adorable," He agreed, kissing your cheek as he continued to watch how good you were with the baby, imagining how great a parent you would be to your own children someday. Hopefully with him.

"Do you find it weird?" You asked as you looked up at him distracting him from his daydream, he shook his head wondering what you were talking about but you nodded over at your sisters.

"My sister has a baby and the other one is writing her vows...I don't know, I find it weird how old we're getting." You laughed softly as Felix chuckled, you'd been together for almost six years now and every year that passed you were happy to be with him. It almost felt unreal to you sometimes that you had spent all these years together, building your futures together.

"One day it'll be us," He promised you as he rubbed his thumb over the sleeping baby's cheek before glancing back at you with a giant smile on his face.

SEUNGMIN: Time goes by and lovers turn to strangers

People watching was one of your favourite things to do with Seungmin but it was hard when the people you were watching were people you knew in your life. The two of you would always sit in a small cafe in your home town watching out of the window as people did their own things while living their lives, sometimes it would give Seungmin inspiration for songs so you would do this whenever he was blocked.

"It's strange," He said as he looked out of the window at a past couple, the two of you had seen them together before. Snuggling up to one another on park benches, walking hand in hand down the streets but now they walked past one another as if they had no idea who the other one was.

"It's life," You sighed as you watched the male turn around to look at his ex-lover, a look of sadness spread across his face and for a moment it looked as though he was going to run after him and kiss him but he didn't. He turned back around and continued to walk away from his ex-partner, keeping his head down as lovers turned to strangers.

"We won't ever get like that, will we?" You questioned nervously as you stirred your hot chocolate and looked at Seungmin who chuckled softly, leaning across to kiss you.

"You won't ever be able to turn me into an ex," He whispered as he kissed you once again.

JEONGIN: I hardly recognise this busy town

Visiting your home town wasn't something that you got to do very often but Jeongin made it so you could go home for a while together, he wanted to see where you had grown up and what your life was like when you lived there. But stepping foot back into the busy town was weird, it felt so off to see everything like this. The shops were all packed with people, new stores had taken over the small town centre and you hardly knew anything that was there. It had been so long since you'd been here it was all hardly recognisable anymore,

"You don't know this shop?" Jeongin questioned as he saw the look of confusion take over your face. You had been trying to take him to your favourite bookstore but it seemed to have been replaced by some phone store you'd never seen before.

"No," You pouted as you stared up at it, wondering what happened to your once quiet town but you didn't hate it, it was nice to see the town picking up in business.

"Come on, I'll take you to my old hide out at the park," You laughed softly, pulling him in the direction of the park down the road from your old house.

Tagline: @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @minholuvs @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @that-anxious-bisexual

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 5: Rescue And Requisition

Summary: Steve, aided by Peggy and the Stark siblings, heads to the HYDRA base on a rescue mission, but little does he know Katie has a mission of her own.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Word Count: 8.2k

A/N: This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge. As always, some creative liberties taken. And for anyone who is interested, Katie uses the term Midnight Requisition which is a military term- “To steal, scrounge. To acquire supplies for a unit from another without their approval or knowledge, usually after business hours/dark.”

This is the LAST catch up post, Chapter 6 onwards is NEW CONTENT!!! And continues the story, I’m so PLEASED finally to be able to share it!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

SSR Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 4

As soon as Howard Stark saw Steve, the Inventor’s face split into a huge grin and he shook his hand with vigour. Katie then explained that they needed his help to go rogue and bust the men out from behind enemy lines, causing her brother’s face to split into a huge grin and nod. The three agents quickly bustled around Howard’s tent, Peggy and Katie talking in low, hushed voices as they hurriedly grabbed various pieces of equipment before the four of them quietly and efficiently left the base, Howard slipping the guards on the perimeter gate a decent wad of cash for their silence.

It took them a little over an hour and was just starting to go dark when they reached the private airfield where Howard had stationed his plane. The waning light suited them, as Katie pointed out, it would be easier for them to operate under the cover of darkness, less chance of being detected. More money exchanged hands, something Steve had always hated, the fact that money seemed to be able to buy you anything you needed no matter how morally corrupt, but at that moment he couldn’t have given less of a shit if he tried. Before long they were in the air, Howard informing them that the trip of just over a hundred and fifty miles would take them roughly an hour and a half, which was far less than the four hours or so he anticipated it would have taken Steve in the jeep.

“You’d have run out of gas after about fifty clicks.” He had teased the soldier who had inwardly groaned as Howard pointed out the flaws in his plan. But then again Steve hadn’t been thinking all that much had he? He never did when it came to the people he cared about. He was a jump first, think later kind of guy, and the serum hadn’t done anything to change that part of his personality.

“So we’re here…” Peggy spoke, leaning forward slightly in her seat opposite Steve, pointing to the map in her hands as he checked the straps on his chute. “The HYDRA camp is in Kreischberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges.” She moved her finger a little right and from the distance it travelled and the scale on the map, Steve estimated they were no more than five miles out.

“Looks like a factory of some kind.” Katie mused, glancing at the map where she sat next to Peggy, flicking her braid back over her shoulder.

“We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Howard called from the front of the aircraft, which was now shaking slightly with a mild bout of turbulence.

“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve called, before he looked back at Katie and Peggy, his voice dropping slightly. “You know you three are gonna be in a lot of trouble at the lab.”

“What else is new?” Katie shrugged, and Steve heard Howard chuckle.

“I’m surprised Old Chester ain’t sent you packing yet, Kiddo.”

“Well like you’re his best mechanical engineer, I’m his best front line agent.” She shrugged, “no offence, Peg.”

“None taken.” Peggy said somewhat sardonically, before she snorted. “We all know I’m the brains behind this operation.”

“Don’t hear me arguing.” Katie shrugged before she looked at Steve. “And you’re gonna be in just as much trouble.”

“Well, where I’m goin’, if anybody yells at me I can just shoot ‘em.” Steve replied, grinning a little. His spirits had been lifted exponentially now he was actually about to do something worthwhile, despite the fact he knew he was going to literally leap feet first into danger.

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” Peggy fixed him with a look.

“Well,” Steve looked round at his stage prop shield that he had brought with him, which was leaning against the wall of the aircraft, “let’s hope it’s good for somethin’.” His knuckles rapped on the metal as Katie gave a little shake of her head and a side smirk, bending over to check the laces on her boots.

“Agent Carter, if we’re not in too much of a hurry I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late night fondue.” Howard called over his shoulder from the front of the plane and there was a moment’s silence as Peggy shifted a little awkwardly on the seat.

“Jesus, Howie, really? You’re doing this now?” Katie groaned as her brother chuckled.

“Hey, you asked me to come on this kamikaze mission.” He shot back. “I was just trying to lighten the mood a little.”

As the two siblings began to bicker Steve glanced at Peggy as he tugged on his gloves and the Agent rolled her eyes slightly. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace, we’re lucky to have him.”

“So are you two…do you…” Steve waved his arm between Peggy and Howard “…fondue?”

Peggy looked at him, completely ignoring his question and Steve supposed he couldn’t blame her, it was a personal question after all. His eyes then flicked to Katie who had stood up and was making her way towards the cockpit, swaying a little with the motion of the aircraft. With a swift flick of her hand she slapped Howard round the back of the head.

“Ouch, Kiddo! Do you want me to crash this thing or what?”

“Stop being a schmuck.” She shot at him before Peggy extended her arm towards Steve, a device held in her hand.

“This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.”

Steve took it from her. “Are you sure this thing works?” he looked at it a little sceptically, turning it over in his hand, his attention flicking to the cockpit.

“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard shot over his shoulder and Steve looked at him before his eyes flicked to Kate who was looking out of the cockpit window straight ahead of them. She raised her arm and pointed at something, her eyes narrowing in concentration.

“Howie…” she began to speak but before she could finish her sentence the plane lurched violently sideways and Steve gripped onto the side as the sky was suddenly filled with flashes and bangs from anti-aircraft shells which exploded all around them. Realising that it was now far too dangerous for them to take him any further, Steve shot to his feet and made his way to the door, grabbing his shield as he went.

“Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy’s voice rose but for the first time since he’d known her, Steve completely ignored the agent, exhaling loudly before he dropped and shuffled to the edge of the plan.

“As soon as I’m free, you turn this thing around and get the hell outta here!” he turned and looked up at Katie and Peggy.

“You can’t give us orders!” Katie scoffed, her hands on her hips.

“The hell I can’t!” Steve looked up at her, unable to stop the cheeky little smirk playing on his face, “I’m a Captain!” and with that he pulled his goggles down and flung himself out into the starry sky. The noise was deafening as he plummeted through the air, the sheer force of falling whipped his body with such ferocity he was sure his hair was going to fly clean off his head. With a sharp tug of the rip cord he deployed his chute and with a sharp jolt he was pulled upwards slightly before he began to fall at a much more civilized pace.

After what seemed like an age, Steve’s sharp eyes spotted the ground rising towards him and he landed heavily in a thud. With an easy, fluid motion he yanked his parachute down to the ground and then untangled himself from the harness. Once he was free, he glanced around and realised he’d landed on the outskirts of a thick, wooded area, the earthy smells of pine, dirt and damp filled his nostrils. He took a moment to get his bearings, pulling out the compass he had in his pants. He knew that from the direction the aircraft had been travelling in he needed to head due north. As the needle settled on the point, he realised he was currently facing East so he spun to his left and was just about to set off at a run when he heard something flying in heavily from above.

He spun round, just in time to see another chute sailing towards him and in a flash he whipped out his pistol as whoever it was landed with a thud some hundred yards or so behind him..

“At ease, Soldier,” a familiar voice, soft and quiet in the cover of night, spoke and Steve felt a cold feeling of utter shock and horror fill his chest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He hissed as he strode towards Katie who was now untangling herself from her harness.

“Same thing as you.” She replied flippantly as she took a look around and began to take a few steps away from him.

“Are you insane?” He glared at her, his hand wrapping around her arm to stop her. He could have sworn she felt the tremble in his finger tips if it weren't evident in his voice.

“Not last time I checked, no.” She wrenched free of his uncharacteristically brash grip and spun to face him, her eyes blazing at him in the dim moonlight.

“You could get yourself killed!” He pressed, his voice carrying a little more than he'd liked. He failed to keep the element of concern out of it.

“Keep your voice down!”

“Damned it Katie, this wasn’t part of the plan!”

“No, it wasn’t part of YOUR plan.” She shot back. “It was, however, always part of mine and Peg’s.”

“Peggy knows about this?”

“Of course she does.”

“And Howard?”

“No way,” Katie snorted. “I'd guess Peggy is currently getting the full force of one of his verbal bashings.” At that she pulled out her compass. “We need to go North.”

“I know.” Steve said a little sullenly, a growl in his chest.

“So let’s move. Sooner we can fulfil our missions, the better.”

The plural of the word didn’t pass him by and through the downright anger and frustration, and dare he say it, fear he was feeling at the current situation, his logical side started to kick in and he knew there was nothing he could do about any of this now, bar keep her safe. So with a sigh, he shook his head and turned to follow her as she’d begun to walk away, his brain registering her last words.

“Missions?” he asked, stressing the word. “We have more than one?”

“One each.” Katie shot over her shoulder. “You’re on a rescue mission. Mine’s more of a midnight requisition.”

“Midnight requisition? For what?”

“Intel, tech, anything we can get our hands on.” She picked up her pace, scrambling up a slight incline. “I told you in the plane, I’m a damned good field agent and this isn’t my first raid. We’ve done a few over the past couple of months. But they’ve all been bust, well almost all anyway.”

“Bust?” Steve frowned “How?”

“They were smaller Nazi controlled labs.” She continued to speak as she weaved through the forest “The more we raided and the more intel we gathered, the more it became apparent we were right, Schmidt is marching to his own tune.” She paused and looked around. “The fight at Azzano wasn’t his first move, he advanced a load of troops into Norway a month or so ago of his own accord. Then, at Azzano, he opened fire on both Allied and Nazi troops alike. My guess is, and Peggy agrees, that this base will likely be under his control alone. And probably house more information about where his other ones are hidden.”

“Others?”

“This won’t be the only one.” Katie shrugged as she looked at her compass and turned right. “And without that information, Steve, we’re fighting blind. We can’t defeat HYDRA if we don’t know where they are.”

“You should have told me.” He replied, his tone still a little sullen. He didn’t like being in the dark.

“What, so you could blow the plan in front of my brother?” She scoffed. “He’d have refused to take us had he known what I was planning, he was bad enough when I had a full troop behind me.”

“You led a troop?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” She chuckled. “You know I’m actually an ‘honorary’ Lieutenant, thanks to Colonel Phillips. Didn’t go down well at first, most of the men weren’t keen on taking orders from a woman.”

“So that’s what you meant when you called them all jerks earlier by the stage.” Despite himself Steve felt a smile curl across his face.

“Yup. They soon fell in line when a few of them ended up with my fist in their mouth. Not to mention a good number also found themselves on the end of a Phillips’ Special.”

“A Phillips Special?”

“Yeah, the term coined for when they’re stripped naked and made to run ten miles round camp by the Colonel.” She shrugged. “For all his bluster, Chester’s actually been really supportive of both me and Peggy. That, and he doesn’t like subordination in any form.”

“You don’t say.” Steve muttered as Katie continued, her foot-falls light and quiet as she weaved her way through the thicket of the trees.

They continued for about an hour, alternating their pace between a jog and a fast walk. Had Steve been on his own he no doubt could have run the entire distance a lot faster but he didn’t raise that issue, and there was no point being frustrated about it either. Firstly, there was nothing he could do about it, secondly, to be fair, Katie kept up a decent enough pace and thirdly, had he been running as fast as he could have he would no doubt have run straight into one of the various HYRDRA patrols they encountered within the woods. As it happened, the pace they were going at was perfect for his sharp senses to alert him whenever a passing patrol was near, enabling them to duck out of sight.

Eventually, the trees began to thin out and through the gloomy mist that had descended, which he had to admit was incredibly useful to keep their presence as covert as possible, Steve saw the perimeter fence and gate to the camp. He stopped dead, his arm out causing Katie to also pause and as he studied the gate, trying to figure out the best way in, he heard the rumble of trucks coming from his side. He spun just in time to see them approaching down the road which led through the wooded area and he crouched down, pulling Katie down with him.

“Reckon you can make the last one?” He asked, turning to face her.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “They’re not going too fast.”

Steve took another look around before he nodded and the two of them ran for the last truck, Katie springing up first and he heard her give a little sigh as he pulled himself up over the tail gate. “Crap.”

The reason for her curse soon became apparent as Steve landed in the back of the truck and came face to face with two HYDRA guards.

"Fellas." He nodded. There was a split second and they both lunged at him at the same time. He pushed Katie a little harshly to the right as he hit one with straight punch to the face, the other dropping with a groan as Katie had connected a well-aimed boot to his stomach. As both guards tried to scramble to their feet, Steve grabbed both their heads, smashing them together like a pair of cymbals before he tossed them straight out of the back.

“Impressive.” Katie looked at him, smirking and Steve rolled his eyes as she turned and looked carefully through a small tear in the side of the canvas of the truck. “They’re taking us straight in.”

“And then what?”

“I dunno, you tell me, you’re the Star Spangled Man with a Plan after all.”

“Oh for the love of…this isn’t some kind of fucking day’s outing!” He practically exploded and Katie groaned.

“Lighten up, Steve.” She turned away, looking back through the hole in the side of the truck. “It was a joke.”

“Well I see nothing funny about any of this, at all.”

“And you think I do?” Katie turned, her eyes once more full of an angry fire. “Let me tell you, Captain, my unit has seen things these last four months that no one should ever have to see. And you know how we dealt with it? By NOT dealing with it.” She brushed a piece of hair off her face. “We joked, made light of the situations we found ourselves in because they were downright fear inducing, and if we didn’t none of us would have lasted five minutes. So take that stick out of your ass and stop being so goddamned self-righteous.”

Steve blinked, but before he could respond to her angry outburst the truck slowed and then began to reverse. Eventually it came to a stop and Steve could hear someone at the tail of the truck so he gestured for Katie to get behind him, which she did. He simply raised his shield in front of his body and waited. The flap to the back of the truck opened and without hesitation Steve smashed the shield straight into the guard’s face, sending him flying backwards. Quickly and quietly, shield on his arm, he jumped out of the truck, turning to help Katie down and the pair of them turned left, jumping off the raised loading platforms and jogging, all the time keeping their bodies stooped and low.

There were lines and lines of tanks emblazoned with the HYDRA symbol and the two of them shared a glance at one another. It was clear to Steve that Katie and Peggy were right, Schmidt had been gearing HYDRA up to be far more than a science division for some time if this equipment was anything to go by. Together, they weaved their way through the lines of armoured vehicles, taking care to keep to the shadows and out of sight as they made their way towards a smaller outbuilding that looked like it led into the main base.

“Come on.” Steve gently nudged Katie and the pair of them ran across the ground. Steve hopped up onto a tank that was conveniently parked by the annex, offering his hand to Katie to pull her up. They both scrambled onto the flat roof and ran, hopping up onto a slightly higher roof before they reached a set of metal steps which led up the side of the huge base. Katie went first, scrambling as fast as she could up them where she paused on a platform approximately halfway up. She nodded to a thick, iron door which led inside the building and Steve moved to try it, shaking his head.

“It’s locked.”

“Yeah, and you have the strength of like thirty men or whatever.” She rolled her eyes “Open it.”

He looked at her, narrowing his eyes at the fact she was bossing him around but he didn’t argue. He moved towards the door, shaking his head “This isn’t gonna-“ he gave a sharp tug and with a squeal the door pulled straight off the hinges “-work.” He finished lamely, looking from the door to Katie who stood there, arms folded, smirking.

“If only you had as much faith in you as I have.” She said a little sardonically and once more he glared at her. Pulling out her pistol Katie made to go in the door and Steve put his arm out.

“No, I’ll go first.” He stopped her.

“That’s not gonna work because you need to prop the door back up, so when that guard patrol comes back it doesn’t look like someone broke in.” She shook her head. Steve let out an exasperated sigh, more frustrated that she’d pointed out yet another potential issue he hadn’t considered in his haste and she smiled at him, “This is what I’m trained in, stealth.” She shrugged

She stepped inside, keeping herself flattened to the wall as Steve followed, leaning the door back up before he paused as they both looked around, finding themselves in a corridor of sorts.

“Any ideas on which way?” He asked and Katie pondered for a moment.

“Well, the front of the camp is left.” She frowned and Steve nodded his agreement.

“So we go right.”

“Yup.”

“Keep behind me, stay in the shadows.” He couldn’t help himself but instruct her, but to her credit she didn’t argue, merely gave him a little salute as the two of them set off through the factory.

A short while later they reached another door, only this one was guarded, they could see through the etched glass window embedded within it. Steve signalled to Katie to keep back before he knocked. The guard turned and came towards them, and as soon as the door opened Steve punched him hard in the face before smashing his head between the door and the wall. As the guard went down he caught him, pulling him silently out before the two of them headed inside, taking care to shut the door behind them. They appeared now to be in the main munitions storage area of the factory, and it was busy. Guards swarming all over, people driving pickups laden with crates, and each soldier seemed to be carrying guns powered by some form of liquid that was glowing a bright, cobalt blue.

They dodged between aisles, using whatever they could to keep out of sight and as they snuck between a collection of huge metal containers of some kind, they both paused as they spotted what appeared to be racks of small, rectangular shaped metal items all containing the mysterious blue liquid. It was eerie, like nothing Steve had ever seen before and he gently moved to a closer look, picking one up.

“What the hell is that?” Katie whispered as he turned it over in his hand.

“I have absolutely no idea.” He shrugged “Except, to state the obvious, it looks like some kind of grenade. But, I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“We should take them back to the lab.” She stated and Steve nodded his agreement, sticking the item into the pocket of his fatigues before they set off to continue their search heading even deeper into the base.

After another fifteen minutes or so of dodging as many HYDRA agents as they could, and subduing the ones they couldn’t, they reached a large room deep in the belly of the base and Steve took a deep breath as he looked around the room at the huge metal cages that contained easily over a hundred soldiers, if not two. He felt Katie still besides him as she also glanced around, her eyes flashing as she scanned the room, her attention instantly shooting upwards when they saw a warden walking above the cages on some kind of gangway, in which the large, circular tops of the cages were embedded. Steve also spotted another guard weaving his way amongst the large cells on the floor and took a deep breath.

“Right,” he turned to Katie. “I’ll take the one up top first, then I’ll drop down and-“

Katie took an exasperated breath, “don’t you trust me or something?” She hissed.

“Of course I do, but-“

“Then you go up high, I’ll take the one down below. I can do this, I’m not some fairy-tale princess that needs protecting. And whilst I appreciate your chivalry, as well you know, now is not the time, Soldier.”

Steve inhaled deeply and looked at her, her green eyes bored into his and he gave her a sharp nod deciding to go along with her, despite every part of his brain screaming at him not to. Without looking back, he ran around the side of the large room and found a set of metal steps which led up the side. He took them two at a time and then continued along the raised platform that ran round the side of the room, crouching as he went to keep out of the dim light that the small, barred windows let in. He spotted the guard coming his way and ducked even more, waiting, and once the man was within reach he grabbed his shield from his back and swung it with a huge arm straight at his face. The guard topped backwards and landed heavily on top of one of the cages out cold.

As Steve moved and began to search the guard for his keys, all the prisoners stood up, their eyes wide with shock and surprise.

“And who the hell are you supposed to be?" One of them spoke as the rest continued to simply stare at him in stunned silence and he didn’t miss the way a few of them eyed him up and down, taking in his helmet and shield painted in the stars and stripes of the American Flag.

“I’m…” Steve answered a little breathlessly as he hesitated for a moment as he began to look around for Katie, but he found no sign of her, “Captain America." He finished a little lamely, glancing back down.

"I beg your pardon?" Another man spoke, this one in a British accent as Steve grabbed the keys from the guard’s belt and ran back the way he had come. As heard he ran across the floor to the first cage, he heard the hisses and rumbles of excited murmurs he glanced up to see Katie jogging towards him.

"Merde," one of the prisoners uttered as all heads turned in her direction.

“Language!” Katie turned her eyes to the soldier who had spoken, giving a slight smirk which the man returned as Steve unlocked the cage he was in.

“You okay?” He asked Katie as they moved to the next cage and she nodded.

“Yeah, took him down with a choke hold then kicked him in the face for good measure,” she shrugged as they moved down to the next cage, then the next.

“Well, well, well, Lady Lieutenant!” A tall, wide man spoke and Steve saw Katie’s head snap in his direction, her smirk turning into a huge smile. “What took you so long?”

“Got here as fast as I could. I'll be outta here just as fast when Phillips finds out where I am.” Katie grinned, before she shook her head and sighed, her voice cracking. “Damned it Dum Dum, we thought you were all dead!”

“Take more than that to get rid of us.”

Systematically, they moved through the room, unlocking each cage as they went until they reached the last one, all the time Steve scanning the faces of the prisoners all as they all emerged, shaking hands and hugging one another. But the face he had been hoping to see wasn’t amongst any of them.

"Are there any others?" Steve whispered, pushing his way between the man he knew only as Dum Dum and an Asian man who was holding his dog tags up, looking slightly affronted. “I'm looking for a Sergeant James Barnes." He asked, turning to the British soldier who began walking alongside him and Katie.

"There's an isolation ward in the factory, but no one has ever come back from it." The British Man spoke.

“Alright,” Steve spoke, considering his options as he continued walking towards the door through which they had entered. "The tree line's northwest, about eighty yards past the gate. Agent Stark knows where it is.” He stopped and turned, nodding towards Katie, his eyes returning back to the group of men “You follow and take your instructions from her, you got it?”

The British man and a few others began to nod, the excitement and anticipation of a fight was easily sensed and Katie stepped forward, shaking her head.

“Steve,” she began to protest but this was one order he was not going to let her ignore.

“You said your mission was requisition.” His eyes locked on hers “So use these guys and do it. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. I'll meet you in the clearing with anybody I find inside."

For a moment he thought she was going to argue but she didn’t. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes still locked onto his. In that split second, Steve hesitated. There was so much he wanted to say, but, he couldn’t find the words to express what he was feeling. He wanted to tell her to stay safe, to keep herself out of danger, make sure she got out alive…but instead he looked at her, swallowing and she gave him a soft smile.

“I know.” She said gently, “you too.”

Steve gave her another curt nod, his chest tightening a little as he turned to go.

"Wait, you know what you're doing?" A soldier shouted after him, and Steve looked back over his shoulder about to answer before he heard Katie quip.

“He’s knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times."

The prisoners furrowed their brows, before glancing around at each other with confused expressions on their faces and despite himself Steve gave a little chuckle, looking at Katie’s grinning face once more before he turned around and jogged out of the door, her voice ringing in his ears as she issued instructions to the troops.

“You heard the Captain. Now the base is heavily armed so we’re absolutely going to have to fight our way out. On the way, we grab as much tech and weapons as we can. Not only to use but also for further analysis by my unit….”

Her voice died down as Steve picked up a jog, shield on his back and headed off back the way they had come. It wasn’t long before a loud siren rang out and Steve took a deep breath, trying to push his worry away as shouts and loud explosions boomed in his ears, signalling the fight had begun. He continued making his way into the factory, fighting his way through a number of guards easily as gunfire sounded all around him, the angry yells and screams of fighting filled his ears as the freed prisoners began to engage with the HYDRA soldiers.

He fought his way up onto the gangway that circled the main factory floor, dispatching another guard with a swift, hard boot to the abdomen that sent him flying over the railing and he took a look around, the sheer size of the factory floor catching him off guard for a moment before he remembered what he was here to do. Pulling out his pistol he turned right, jogging round the gangway until he hit a dimly lit corridor. He continued round and, as he quickly made his way through in search of the isolation ward, he saw a short man in thick glasses, carrying a briefcase and a number of files in his arms emerge from a room. The man stopped dead, looked at Steve and then turned and sprinted away from him, heading round the corner. Steve began to run after him, but as he passed the room the man had emerged from, he slowed when he heard what sounded like someone talking, mumbling even.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the room, following the sound as it became clearer and then his heart stopped and he grew hot, his breathing deep as he knew that voice. It was weak but still so familiar, even if it had been months since he had heard it.

"Sergeant. 32557…"

He hurried through another door, glancing towards the end of the room and saw the man he’d come to this very place for, strapped to a reclined medical chair.

"Bucky?" Steve shot over, pausing at the side of the chair and looking down at his best friend. Bucky’s eyes didn’t move, instead he kept chanting his rank and number as he stared blankly up at the ceiling. "Oh my God." Steve swallowed was his eyes travelled over Bucky’s body, taking in the restraints that kept him strapped to the chair. He looked tired, weak, sick even, and it hurt Steve to see him in such a state. Bucky had always been the strong one out of the pair of them, normally looking after him. But, well, now it was time to return the favour. He swallowed and began ripping the straps around him with ease.

"Is that…?"

"It's me. It’s Steve.”

"Steve?" Bucky murmured, his face breaking into a smile as recognition flooded his features.

"Come on." Steve helped Bucky to his feet, holding onto his arms as he steadied himself before he gently reached out and patted the side of his friends face.

"I thought you were dead," Steve sighed as Bucky frowned, his eyes fixed on where Steve’s face would normally have been, and when he instead found himself looking at Steve’s chest, he raised his eyes up wards, puzzlement etched across his face.

"I thought you were smaller.” Bucky swallowed and Steve kept hold of him, helping him to stand upright as he became more coherent. Whilst Bucky was gaining his senses, Steve took a quick glance around and his eyes focussed on a map pinned to the wall, various positions highlighted upon it across Europe. Committing it to memory he then slung Bucky's arm over his shoulder, for the first time ever bearing his friend’s weight.

"Come on," he urged as he began to lead him out of the lab.

"What happened to you?" Bucky asked as Steve pretty much hauled him out of the room, keeping him upright as he stumbled, his feet struggling for traction.

"I joined the Army." Steve replied simply.

As they made their way back down the corridor, Steve felt Bucky becoming able to bear some of his own weight, and then gently nudge at Steve to let him go so he did. Bucky followed behind a pace or two his arm clutched over his ribs.

"Did it hurt?" He suddenly asked.

"A little," Steve replied, his head still looking around.

"Is it permanent?"

"So far." Steve nodded as they continued.

Suddenly, there was a loud explosion which rocked the factory and the two men paused for a second before they picked up the pace. Eventually they emerged onto the gangway Steve had walked round before and immediately recoiled back as another explosion sent a huge ball of fire up into the air. Steve held his shield up to protect his face as Bucky ducked slightly, his hand gripping one of the railings, other hiding his face. Turning away from the railings, Steve started to head up a set of stairs immediately behind him, Bucky following. The heat was stifling and it made Steve feel like he was stuck in a furnace as they quickly sprinted up the metal steps and emerged onto another gangway. Taking a right, they began to sprint down it, explosions and flames roaring below them. Steve’s brow beaded with sweat and he wiped it with the back of his hand, taking another look down. He had no idea whether the fire had been started by the men led by Katie or some self-destruction ploy by HYDRA to prevent any of their plans or weapons getting into their hands, either way he found it hard to care. One less base to deal with he supposed.

“Captain America!”

Steve stopped dead, turning to his left to see two men on the other side of the factory by an elevator door. One was the shorter bespectacled man Steve had seen before, and the other he recognised also, but only from photos. Johann Schmidt, HYDRA leader. He was dressed in a long black trench-coat of sorts, a large silver buckle bearing the HYDRA symbol spanned his waist and he turned towards Steve as he handed the other man a silver briefcase.

“How exciting! I'm a great fan of your films.” Schmidt’s thick German accent carried across the factory as he began to walk over the gangway towards Steve. Steve took a deep breath, his jaw setting as he strode towards the man, the anger surging through his body. “So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still impressive."

At that Steve swung his right arm back and bridged the two or so feet in between him and Schmidt with a punch straight to the man’s face, the impact forcing the HYDRA leader back a few steps.

"You've got no idea," Steve snarled.

Schmidt merely smirked, before standing up, cracking his jaw slightly and Steve frowned at the way the right hand side of his face appeared to have sagged away from his eye socket. "Haven't I?"

Quickly, the man’s fist flew towards Steve, but equally as quickly he raised his shield to block it. The metal vibrated in his hands and to his utter shock the item dented with the force of Schmidt’s blow. It was then that Steve recalled Erskine telling him how the man had taken the serum, and that it had enhanced him too. In a flash he reached for his pistol but Schmidt was too quick and laded a punch straight to the left hand side of Steve’s jaw. He was knocked completely off his feet, falling backwards onto the metal of the gangway, the pistol he had been holding slid straight out of his hand and over the edge. Schmidt advanced towards Steve but he threw all his weight into a huge double kick, which sent the man sprawling backwards.

As Steve got to his feet, the gangway he was on suddenly began to move backwards, separating him from Schmidt who stood up, the two men not moving a muscle as the metal walkway drew them both back to their respective sides.

"No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see I was his greatest success!" Schmidt yelled as Steve stood still, his chest heaving, as Schmidt reached up for his face, grabbing at the skin at the left hand side of his jaw. As Steve watched, to his horror, he began to peel back the skin revealing that it was a mask, and underneath was a grotesque, featureless red skull.

Steve swallowed, his face wrinkling up as he tried to understand what the hell he had just seen. What he was still seeing, for that matter.

"You don't have one of those, do you?" Bucky mumbled, his attention also on the man in front of them.

"You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality,” Schmidt tossed the mask down into the flames, Steve following it with his eyes before he glanced back across the factory room “,you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind.” At that Schmidt turned to his right and walked towards the now open elevator “Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!" he gestured with his hand as he made his way into the elevator.

"Then how come you're running?" Steve yelled back. It was a pathetic shot really, all things considered, but it was all Steve could think about saying given what had happened. As expected, Schmidt completely ignored him and merely smirked as he pressed a button to his right and the doors closed.

Steve paused, still not completely sure what the hell had gone on when a large explosion rocked the platform they were stood on, causing both him and Bucky to duck once more from debris that shot up all around them.

They needed a way out. Steve’s eyes fell back on the elevator and he followed the shaft upwards spotting a set of doors right at the top which led, he assumed, to the roof. He followed the line of the ceiling, noticing there was a thin gantry that led over to the side they were on, and he spun round to spot another set of steps which led upwards.

That was it, their only way out.

"Come on," Steve turned around, grabbing Bucky’s arm and leading him to the stairs. "Let's go. Up."

Together they hurriedly climbed and reached the highest walkway that stretched across the factory floor that was now burning, Steve felt, hotter than hell itself. Explosions rocked the catwalks causing everything to shake and Steve glanced at the flimsy gantry that led over to the side they needed to be on, then back to Bucky.

“Let’s go. One at a time.” He moved to help Bucky climb over the railings to allow him to cross first. Bucky made his way tentatively across the thin beam of metal and as he was roughly at the halfway point, it began to give way. Bucky picked up his pace and threw himself off the edge grabbing the railings at the other side, but the gantry collapsed behind him leaving Steve stranded.

Steve watched as Bucky hauled himself over and then tuned to face him, the realisation that Steve was stuck evident on his face as he looked back at him.

"Gotta be a rope or something!" Bucky shouted hopefully. At that point another part of the factory below them fell with a loud crash into the fire below and Steve swallowed, shaking his head.

"Just go! Get out of here!" he bellowed, waving Bucky away. Bucky shook his head, his hands gripping the railing around the walkway.

"No! Not without you!" He screamed back, desperation lacing his tone.

Steve looked over at him, then peered down at the fire, before taking another look up. If he stayed where he was, he was a dead man. If he jumped and didn’t make it, he was a dead man. But if he didn’t jump, well he had no chance of making it at all.

Decision made, he pushed the now broken bars of the railings in front of him, bending it out of the way to create a gap large enough to jump through. He took a few steps back, once more gaging the distance before he sighed and grimaced a little at what he was about to do. His thoughts flashed to Katie, his only comfort out of all of this was that she wasn’t stuck with him now and had a good chance of having made it out. With a deep breath he set off at a sprint before he launched himself off the side, over the huge chasm below. His arms flailed, as did his legs as he spun them to try and maintain momentum, the flames and explosions licking at his boots and with a loud grunt he landed, his arms gripping tightly onto the remainder of the railing beside Bucky. Bucky was quick to grab him, hauling him over, the pair of them falling to the metal walkway. Steve landed with a grunt on his back and took a huge breath, turning to look at Bucky who was led besides him, his chest heaving.

“Thanks.” Steve panted as Bucky looked at him, incredulously.

“You’re thanking me? Whatever, punk.”

Another large explosion rocked the gangway they were on and they both rolled over, before pushing themselves up, stumbling a little as they made their way hastily through the door, bursting out into the cold night air. Steve took a split second to gather his bearings, his eyes flicking to the front gate of the camp before he located a set of the metal railing type rungs the same as the ones he and Katie had used to gain entry at the side of the building.

“This way.” Steve instructed as he led Bucky towards it, and started to descend, all the time keeping one eye on his friend in case he lost his grip and Steve needed to catch him. When Steve’s feet finally touched down on solid ground he felt like yelling in utter relief, but they weren’t clear yet. Once Bucky landed besides him, they both set off at a sprint across the outside area of the camp. There were still a fair number of soldiers running around but they were too busy trying to escape the burning building to pay him and Bucky any attention. Nevertheless, they kept to the shadows and made their way out of the gate, Steve taking a sharp right following the way he had come with Katie before.

As they walked towards the clearing they were aiming for, the hushed sound of voices and chatter hit their ears and he heard Bucky take a sharp breath.

“Steve?” Bucky asked as Steve continued walking, his feet crunching over the frosty ground under his boots. “Is that…”

“No, it’s not HYDRA.” Steve assured him. “We found a bunch of other prisoners before you, got them out first.”

“We?” Bucky asked, “there was someone else with you?”

“Yeah, it was….” Steve trailed off as they emerged into the clearing and a number of men wheeled round, guns raised. As they spotted who it was, their weapons dropped but before Steve could say anything, Katie pushed through the middle and stopped dead, her chest heaving. She looked a little roughed up- some of her uniform was torn, there was a cut to her right temple, a trickle of blood having seeped down her cheek and the same side of her face looked a little red and bruised, but other than that, she seemed fine.

Steve felt relief flood his system at the sight of her, and without a word he strode quickly towards her and she threw herself at him, wrapping her legs round his waist as he held her tight, one hand supporting her lower back, the other gripping at the back of her head, fisting softly in her untidy hair.

“Thank God.” he mumbled, closing his eyes as he held her close, pressing his face into her hair.

“You’re late.” She stuttered and he let out a splutter of a laugh as he pulled back to look at her. “I thought you were gonna stand me up.”

“Never,” he shook his head, his eyes locking onto hers. They stood still, no attention being paid to anyone around them at all and Steve swallowed, his eyes flicking down to her mouth. His face dropped towards hers, and then a voice spoke from behind them, completely interrupting him and reminding him that firstly he was in the middle of a still heavily occupied with enemy troops forest and secondly, that they were most certainly not alone.

“Well, this is nice.”

Steve closed his eyes and let out a sigh as he set Katie onto her feet, stepping back out of her space, blushing furiously. She peered round him, as he turned and saw Bucky smirking at the pair of them. He jerked his face towards Katie, arching an eyebrow.

“Hey, Doll face.”

“Barnes.” She scanned him up and down, taking in his appearance before she smiled. “Good to see you in one piece.”

“Yeah, I hate to break this little reunion up,” Dum Dum spoke and they all turned to face him, “but I suggest we get moving and tie up with the rest.”

“The rest?” Steve frowned, looking around, and for the first time he noticed that there were a lot less men than he had anticipated “Where…”

“We split into three main groups. We took a few losses but most of us made it. My group managed to take a few vehicles.” Katie explained. “Some kind of tank, two trucks. We also found a huge storehouse too and loaded both trucks with as much as we could take, weapons, ammo, and equipment, what ration packs we could find.” She took a deep breath. “There’s an old abandoned allied base some ten miles South East which someone suggested would be easier for us to hold up in whilst we waited for help. I sent a group ahead with the seriously wounded along with support. Said we would meet them there.”

Steve blinked, astounded at her planning, although he knew he really shouldn’t be. He nodded and then looked around, before a huge explosion made them all jump and Steve turned to see an enormous fireball erupt into the sky signalling that the HYDRA base had finally gone up completely.

“Okay, let’s move.” He instructed, as Katie began to bark out instructions again, before she hurried forward and fell into step alongside Dugan, who pulled out his compass before he pointed and began to bellow out for everyone to make tracks.

“So,” Bucky fell into step alongside Steve, and Steve kept his eyes focussed ahead as they began to walk “Somethin’ going on between you two or…”

“Don’t know what you mean.” Steve replied, but couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face as he continued to avoid Bucky’s searching glance.

“You’re a punk.” Bucky snorted, nudging him.

“Jerk.” Steve replied simply, the smile on his face growing bigger by the second.

***** Chapter 6

#stark spangled rebirth #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #Katie Stark #CATFA 10th anniversary challenge #captain america the first avenger #chris evans #chris evans characters

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farfromtommy · 4 years

Text

all too well (tom holland x singer!reader)

request: So let’s pretended the song isn’t about Jake, but could you write something where the reader is a singer and he broke up with her resulting in her writing All Too well then she has to perform it on graham norton the same day he and his family are there (she had a close relationship with them)? thank you Also forgot to add in the singer!reader request that after the break up she moved away from London and cut her hair short

a/n: so yes this is my first attempt at an angsty piece and oh my god i’m literally a mess. thank you anon for such a creative request i loved writing this even though it tore my soul apart. this is based off of the song all too well by taylor swift

warnings: language, sadness, heartbreak, sad memories, small description of arguing

word count: 1,400

masterlist social media au masterlist taglist

PART 2

“Before we end tonight's show I’d like to introduce to you to someone on the rise, topping charts all across the world. Here to perform her new song All Too Well for the very first time, Y/N Y/L/N!!!” Graham introduced.

I walked through the door with you, the air was cold But something 'bout it felt like home somehow and I Left my scarf there at your brother's house And you still got it in your drawer even now

Tom was sitting on the infamous red sofa watching you in all your glory. His heart dropped the instant your name left Graham’s mouth. He didn’t know you were going to be here tonight. He wondered if you knew he was here, that his brothers were here, that his parents were here.

Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place And I can picture it after all these days

You looked different. Sporting a new haircut that you had always talked about getting, but never brave enough to do while you were with him. The lights around the main stage had dimmed and the cameras were on you, so he frantically darted his eyes around trying to find the gaze of his family. He was met with the nervous glances of his brothers and the worry in his mum’s eyes.

And I know it's long gone and That magic's not here no more And I might be okay But I'm not fine at all Oh, oh, oh

No one but your families and a few close friends knew about your relationship. Both of you on the rise in your career fields respectively. You dated for almost 2 years before it all crashed down. Neither of you sure what went wrong at the end. Whatever did happen broke the two of you in ways that could never be fixed.

'there we are again on that little town street You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking over me Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well

You didn’t know he was here until you saw him from the stage as you walked up to the mic. You thought that the head of unruly curls you saw backstage looked familiar, they belonged to Harry. You could feel the ache in your chest rise again when you spotted the rest of his family in the front row. Memories of the past flooded your brain as you saw them staring right back at you.

Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-size bed And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on a tee ball team You tell me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me

You moved away after the split. Work had you based in London, which is how you met the curly-haired Brit. The time spent with Tom was the best in your life. He was going to marry you, build a family with you. The nights you had together were spent wrapped up in each other and talking about what was next. The pain of thinking about that future with anyone else but him angered you. It wasn’t fair that he got to take that from you. The anger and pain landed you in California, far away from everything you left behind.

And I know it's long gone and There was nothing else I could do And I forget about you long enough To forget why I needed to

Your unbearable heartbreak fueled creativity as you poured your feelings into writing. Your agent had given you the time to yourself. You gave her a vague reason for getting as far away from London as possible, just saying there was nothing left for you there and you needed to find out who you were somewhere else.

'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night We dance around the kitchen in the refrigerator light Down the stairs, I was there, I remember it all too well, yeah

Tom ran, too. He couldn’t bear to stay in the room you two had frequently shared. He couldn’t stand seeing little bits and pieces of you wherever he went. Your shampoo in his shower, your blanket on the couch in his parent's house, your mug in the cupboard, and that fucking scarf at Harry’s house. He poured himself into his work. Taking every single movie deal that came up and would keep him away from London. Away from where you were building your life with him.

Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well

He remembers everything from that night. The screaming, the crying, the pure venom that dripped from his tongue and right into you. You went quiet at the last thing he had said to you. The look in your eyes had shown Tom just how damaging his words were. All you did was pick up your purse as silent tears fell from your eyes and Tom just watched. He did nothing as he watched you collect your things and get to the front door. You turned around to get a look at him and walked out of his life forever.

Hey, you call me up again just to break me like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'Cause I remember it all, all, all too well

He called you a few days later, leaving a voicemail. You were settled a bit in the hotel you found. You heard the raw emotion in his voice, the apologies falling out of his mouth. You sat curled up in the sheets with your phone pressed to your ear, knowing you would never hear his voice again. His last I love you ended the voicemail and you pulled your phone back just to press delete.

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone

After a while you found someone to help you pick the pieces up. Someone who knew what you were going through and had run to California to escape the heartbreak and pain he experienced. He invited you to join him and his band as they wrote their hearts out on the California beach. He helped you find yourself again, the person you were when you were at your happiest. You tried new things that expanded your mind and allowed you to feel so free.

But you keep my old scarf from that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me You can't get rid of it, 'cause you remember it all too well, yeah

Tom heard the rumors of you and the British singer spending time together and writing music. You had been mentioned by the Brit a few times in interviews and he spoke very lovingly about you. You seemed happy. He finally moved his head to face you and he had caught your gaze. There was a glossiness to your eyes that he knew meant you were getting emotional. Your eyebrows furrowed as you sang and concentrated on the words, one of the habits you had that he loved. Your fingers delicate on the guitar strings made his heart race just a little more, he loved the way you played it.

'Cause there we are again, when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

He lifted his eyes again to meet yours just to see the tears slipping down your face as you keep your gaze on him. He mouthed a quick “I’m sorry” and you nodded slightly before getting one last look at each other before you looked back to the crowd.

Wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all Down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic #marvel actor #thomas holland #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader

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ellasadventuresinfandoms · 3 years

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Okay, back in May @isolatedphenomenon asked me if I had an les mis fic recs and I went "oh boy do I !" and then promptly fucked off and disappeared from tumblr for like 6 months...

Anyway on the off chance people are interested, here is my vastly too long list of my favourite les mis fanfic (that I'm almost 100% sure I'll have accidentally missed some of my favourites off of...)

The vast majority of these are main pairing Enjolras/Grantaire, so I've put those first, divided into multi-chaptered and then one-shots. Below that will be other pairings!

Multi-chaptered

• Witch Boy Series : magic AU, starting with Grantaire solving Enjolras' curse - this is just Incredible world building which gets better as it goes on - my favourite is the Babet interlude

• World Ain't Ready : you know how fandoms tend to have a fic that is just associated with it ? in my experience, for les mis this is it - and well deserved ! High school, fake dating AU with some of the most engaging writing

• BE : Enjolras is dragged back into theatre production, helping Eponine put on a production of Hamlet - really love the characterisation in this, and this is really one of those modern AUs that actually feels like real life - really good writing

• After the End : the definitive apocalypse AU in my eyes - les amis are an underground resistance to the dystopian government - really wonderful characterisation of Grantaire and the amis

• You never have to wonder; you never have to ask. : I tend to find fic by scrolling through bookmarks of a pairing, which means I often see repeats; this is a fic that if I see I just re-read cause I know I'll enjoy it - the amis sparked a failed rebellion, and now 18 months later Grantaire ends up staying at Enjolras' after returning to Paris for Marius and Cosette's wedding

• Your Heart on Your Skin : Soulmate AU with flower tattoos marking important emotions and events - wonderful concept and world building

• Impatient to Be Free : Daughters of Bilitis AU - if that doesn't make you excited I don't know what else to say to convince you (aside from saying the author is a simply wonderful writer)

• You Dance Dreams : Okay. Not to be over dramatic, but this fic did genuinely qualitatively change my life, in that it was the first thing that got me looking up contemporary ballet and now that's like one of my favourite things and big hobby So. Also its really great writing; music/creative arts school les amis with Grantaire choreohraphing the ballet for Combeferre's opera, with a heavy emphasis on Grantaire realising he really never actually got over Enjolras

• philia : this one is an absolute classic to me, but not given nearly enough recognition - one of the more realistic college AUs ever written, and the writing of Grantaire is so good because it hits the perfect balance of sympathy and annoyance about his behaviour (that's a genuine compliment)

• Coffee Hooligans : fucking tragedy this never got properly finished, Enjolras leads the amis as social justice vigilantes and tries to hide the criminal bits of his life from R

• Fighting the Hurricane : Pacific Rim AU that's less an AU and more just placing the les mis characters in the Pacific Rim universe. Really good and riveting read, also super interesting depiction of Grantaire

• Weaving Olden Dances : Fairy AU - Grantaire "claims" Enjolras to prevent his execution - really good writing, love Grantaires characterisation

• Paris Burning : canon era (sort of) where cities have a physical being - Grantaire is Paris and becomes entangled in Enjolras' revolution - oh the world building is truly *chefs kiss*

• Euphoria is You For Me : Enjolras and Grantaire keep meet cuting in a wonderfully written Brooklyn - feels like a love letter to Brooklyn at times, and I really like the characterisation of Grantaire

• so please just fall in love with me this christmas : Enjolras works for the environmental company Grantaire volunteers at, and keeps getting secret gifts at Christmas - I sound a little like a broken record but the Grantaire characterisation is very good

• You Are the Moon : Wild West esque Space AU - Grantaire has to call on the amis to help rescue Valjean and Cosette, despite Grantaire leaving the amis 6 months before. On re-reading the Enjolras characterisation feels a little rushed, but overall fantastic story telling and the Grantaire arc is a Delight

• Pandemos : Enjolras is aphrodite, and seeks peace from all his suitors in R/Hephestus' cave

• Pining for You : Hallmark christmas romance - Grantaire returns home to work on his father's tree farm, and Enjolras is the lawyer helping prevent the farm being sold - cute as shit imo

• Once We're Kings : Fantasy AU - a country hosts a ball to marry Prince Enjolras and the rival country sends Grantaire as a fuck you - one of the best ways of doing Enjolras as a prince in a fantasy and just really nicely written

• Never Bitter and All Delicious : Fairy Godmother AU - yes really, yes its genuinely a very good read

• On One Condition : Fantasy AU - Enjolras is a bored knight who finally goes to check out the local dragon, which turns out to be Grantaire - I really like how they capture Enjolras' stubborn nature and it's such a well written soft growth of love between them

• That's How Easy Love Can Be : Les Amis work at a primary school; and its secret santa time! very fun portrayal of Enjolras

• The Lark and Her Lieutenants : re write of canon where Cosette is the leader of the revolution - just *chefs kiss*

• If You Tickle Us, Do We Not Laugh : Grantaire is Enjolras' secret android - really good at writing a relationship that's incredibly loving but just keeps being antagonistic and coming off wrong

One Shots

• True Colours : AU where you leave colours on the people important to you - Enjolras and Grantaire falling for each other is so soft and gently written its lovely, this is genuinely one of my favourites

• Keep It Kind, Keep It Good, Keep It Right : this one is so good to me, because it builds off my pet hatred of everyone assuming Enjolras doesn't care about (or at least actively show he cares about) his friends

• blooming : very soft post-dystopian utopia that has just a really wonderful sense of hope and light to me

• and the wall leaned away (or: The Pros and Cons of Tilling) : perfectly realised characterizations of the amis, Grantaire needs a date to her final year art exhibition - deals with anxiety over protest in a way that actually hits for me

• not just one of the crowd : R helps run a leftist bakery and bike repair shop - very cute characterisation, and I think more les mis fanfic should link to anarchist essays

• Lovesickness : Enjolras is an idiot and thinks he's sick rather than having a crush - the writing of Joly and Combeferre in this is some of my favourite depictions of these two

• If there's a rocket, tie me to it : absolutely heartbreaking sci-fi AU about the amis as doomed mecha pilots

• Where I Fall is Where I Land : Enjolras is a Roman commander as Rome's power is leaving England, and then meets the pict Grantaire (+ fun soulmark stuff !)

• You Started Foreign to Me : Enjolras moves to america and R is the overnight grocery clerk who helps her learn Spanish - cute fluffy lesbians with a wonderfully written driven Enjolras

• Love Is Touching Souls : very cute soulmate AU - and one I really love for really truly considering the implications of soul marks and creating historical lore around it

• Ten Years : R is a musician, and it non-linearly charts his relationship to Enj from high school to 10 years later

• put up with me then I'll make you see : Grantaire lives above Enjolras, and its christmas - I find it to have a very fun interpretation of pining Enjolras

• A Cat Called Trash Can : this was one of the first les mis fics I ever read (yes I know it says it was published in 2020, but I think it has to be a re-upload or something?) and it does still have a special place in my heart - Grantaire rescues a cat, but Enjolras is the only one with an apartment free to look after it

• Still I'm Begging to Be Free : inception AU where les amis have to rescue a sleeping R from his own brain

•I'm in it for You : cw: illness, cancer - R has cancer and is being a martyr about telling his friends so Enjolras drives him back from chemo

• walls come tumbling down : sky high au - a very good high school AU with the perfect level of campy superhero powers

• This brave new world's not like yesterday : Enjolras needs a job, so ends up working in a bowling alley with Grantaire and bonding

Enjolras/Grantaire/Combeferre

• In Defiance of All Geometry : les amis are a student co-op house, Enjolras and Combeferre are pining friends and Grantaire is the newbie

• Still the Same : this is very good writing and very compelling - if you can get over the (imo) plot hole of Enjolras working for the FBI. R was an art thief Enj put away and is briefly helping the FBI out, and Combeferre is Enjolras' husband

• To Kingdom Come : cw: war and PTSD from that, Enjolras and Combeferre are part of a group of refugees that have crossed into a more fantasy land, and Grantaire is a lone traveller from that land that attempts to help - that was a shit summary of this very emotional, wonderfully written fic about war and love in all forms

• Gonna need (a spark to ignite) : I always love a twist on a classic trope, and this is a very fun take on the soulmate AU - Enjolras loses feeling in his soul mark as a child, falls in love with Grantaire and then his soulmate, Combeferre, turns up

Eponine/Cosette

• Pretty Girls Don't Know the Things That I Know : simply stunning writing - perfect example of soft writing about a harsh world

• she knows her way around : Eponine and Cosette bond, ostensibly so Eponine can find out about her for Marius, and their interactions are so playful and realistic, its wonderful

• always find me floating on oceans : Cosette stows away on Eponine's pirate ship - I do always have a soft spot for eposette fics (not just cause I ship it) because they truly characterise Cosette in a really considered and interesting way

• There's No Making Love : I'm putting this under eposette even though there is some significant enjolras/grantaire content, because the Cosette characterisation is so fun and cute

• round and round again : this fic really beautifully translates Cosette's bad childhood and then isolated teenage years, and the impact that would have on her as an adult into a modern AU

• Underwater Thunderheards : this is based off the book The Scorpio Races, and is just a really nice short fic about longing

• How To Change The World Without Taking Power : Marius has a crush on Cosette and she's tried being polite and subtle in turning him down, so just ends up fake dating Eponine instead

• blood red fruit and poison's kiss : Snow White AU - Cosette as Snow White

• The Winters Cannot Fade Her : Snow White Au 2.0 - Eponine as Snow White - this was written as a pair to the one above which is just so cute to me

• marriage à la mode : Cosette and Eponine run a bridal shop together and it's very cute !

• Temporary Hold : I personally find this a really fun and very unique take on Cosette - with exams coming up she decides she needs to get laid on the reg and so hits up Eponine to act as if they're already long term girlfriends

Combeferre/Courfeyrac

• better than you had it : fake dating but kick it up an emotional notch - Courf and Ferre pretend to still be together after breaking up for a family event

• take flight, come near : nice and cute low fantasy, where Combeferre runs a dragon sanctuary and Courf finds an injured dragon

Rare Pairs

• The Future's Owned by You and Me : cute Enjolras/Feuilly with actual radical politics and real life organising difficulties and wins

• First Dates and Other Dangers : Combeferre and Grantaire agree to go on a blind date and it's awkward until it isn't - just cute !

• after midnight : Combeferre has insomnia and meets Grantaire in various all night fast food chains

• as you are : Bahorel and Jehan getting ready together

• Almost Romantic : Jehan works at a museum, and takes Combeferre on a little tour

• Understudy : Jehan/Combeferre, with Combeferre's insecurities regarding being seen as second best to Enjolras

• Here There Be Dragons : Courf/Enj/Ferre - Courf and Enj are superheroes and Ferre is the doctor that patches them up

• To Let it Occur (Laisser Faire la Nature) : Feuilly has a stupidly long stopover in Paris and meets Enjolras

• rule of three : Courf/Enj/Ferre as spies and loving boyfriends

• Good Rhetoric : snapshots of cute cuddly courf/enj/ferre

• subluxate, dislocate, replace : found family and chronic illness with Joly/Bossuet/Musichetta

• Strike stone, strike home (like lightning) : so this fic took one minor piece of lore about Tolkien's dwarves and made a beautiful j/b/m fic from it

• Almost Inevitable : Bahorel/Feuilly friends-with-benefits

• god only knows (what I'd be without you) : Bahorel/Feuilly with a closeted Feuilly and a beautiful Feuilly and Eponine friendship

#les miserables #fanfic rec #les mis #les miserables fanfic #les miserables fanfic rec

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chalkrevelations · 3 years

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Huh.

Well, this is not the next episode reaction you were expecting, but a while back, in the middle of the night, while I was ready to cry from working on a pharmacology paper, out of nowhere, Youtube threw up Street Dance of China S3 Ep1 at me. And yeah. I am, admittedly, f’kn weak for a dance show. (There are enough SYTYCD episode reax on my old Livejournal that I feel there’s no point denying this.)

So – no, actually, wait. FIRST of all, I do NOT believe the “towel vote” we ended up being given for the opening routines from the four captains. That was the most blatant bit of bullshit chicanery I’ve seen in my LIFE, and I say this as a person with a ton of SYTYCD episode reax on my old Livejournal, and I also say this not because Wang Yibo ended up last (well, not entirely), but because I saw Wallace Chung’s routine. As someone closer in age to him than to the other three captains, I have to give him props for trying, but come on, man. The critique that Yibo got from random contestants – if the subtitles are to be believed, so I realize this needs a grain of salt - basically boiled down to “it was too good for the stage lighting.” :hands: Also, I saw your face at the reveal, Wallace, and you were as shocked as I was. No way you got more towels/votes than Wang Yibo. Not unless there’s some super wild undercurrent of nostalgia propping you up, which, I guess could happen, because literally all I know about pop culture in China, current or otherwise, is filtered through Tumblr and Youtube, both notoriously suspect, but … anyway. There’s got to be a TON of behind-the-scenes manipulation going on for Yibo to be rock-bottom with last pick of teams but then also to end up with THAT pool of possibles. Are you kidding me with this?

ANYWAY, what I wanted to say is that I actually really like Wang Yibo here, and it’s not just because he’s the only captain I have even a sliver of familiarity with, and it’s not just because Lan Wangji was banging Wei Wuxian. I do realize all of this is influenced by whatever edit they’ve decided to give a particular captain or contestant, but I’m impressed with the way Yibo immediately starts team building by getting his group into a warmup, getting them dancing together, getting them dancing with him before they have to worry about dancing for him. (I mean, come on, Jackson Wang. The way to get people to stop being nervous is not to say “Stop being nervous! It will make you fuck up!”) The way Yibo immediately recognized and responded to his group’s concerns about that one dude copying someone else’s routine probably also bought him a lot of return investment. He’s dressed to work it, in his sweats and his flannel (what IS that fake-leather TAC vest and random leg holster-looking thing, Jackson Wang?). He’s convincing me he really loves to dance, he can’t hold still while he watches the contestants, he’s wandering over into other captains’ turf when it sounds like there’s a dancer performing who he might like to see, he’s being the best Yibo he can be, and I’m grooving along, wind in my hair, totally down for this ride. He’s also adorable at the beginning when all the other captains are like, my goal for this season is to slaughter the competition and dance on their graves! And he’s like, well, I’d like to … make some friends? And learn some new stuff? I don’t know if the perpetual Humble Student schtick is natural or persona, or whether it’s general or specific to dancing, but it’s working for you, my dude. This is also made better (read: ironic), by the fact that it’s immediately before the towel reveal, when he flips over to utter disbelief and gets all sulky for a while over the “fact” that his dance routine got the least votes.

Also, OH WAIT. This is where that clip of Yibo dancing with his crew ALL OVER HIM came from that I saw floating around a few months ago, isn’t it? You’re telling me those guys had never danced together before and had like, three minutes to throw together that routine? I’m even more impressed than before. Meanwhile, the towels symbolize courage and challenge, Mr. Emcee? OK, fine, cheesy reality show blah blah whatever. Can we get to the dancing now?

I’m going to put the rest of this behind a cut, because it got super long, because it turns out, when you watch in 5-minute increments, it takes two and a half weeks to get through a single episode, but you actually can see and have opinions on all 5,328 contestants, plus every single one of the captains’ battles. Meanwhile, I’m trying to convince myself this is not going to be another series of episode reactions, but 1) I do have the benefit of not having a ton of hometown media giving me a next-day play-by-play, so even though this is six months old, everything’s a surprise; 2) I am, admittedly, f’kn weak for a dance show; and 3) it’s easy to watch in 5-minute increments between researching drug interactions in hypothetical hypertensive patients with stable ischemic heart disease, erectile dysfunction, and seasonal allergies. So, I guess we’ll see. It’ll be slow going, though, because I don’t ever have two and half hours to sit down and watch an ep cover-to-cover – if it happens, it will likely keep happening in 5-minute increments. Meanwhile, there is a metric shit-ton of nattering below the cut, so caveat lector. No, seriously, I kept adding to this little by little until it became a monster. Hashtag long post (remorseful).

OK, I am generally out of my depth here, as this is not at all my area of dance not-really-expertise, but some reactions:

Team Wang Yibo: I can see why he didn’t want to choose between Colin and Dian Men – Colin might have been a touch better technically and a better showman, but Dian Men didn’t seem to have a single wasted move – but, also, my dude. Yibo. You maybe should look a little bit less stunned and overwhelmed by the mere presence of Colin, it’s giving me ideas about your taste in men. Continuing with the powerhouses, I probably shouldn’t even attempt to critique Klash, but I did feel like he was a bit stiff in some of his footwork; that final V kick, though, shit, that’s what having that kind of upper-body strength is for. Bouboo … I mean, excellent flexibility and control, of course, but mainly I’m just terribly amused that Yibo got last pick of teams but somehow ended up with the guy who’s literal world champion, and who’s just as useful for getting into the other captains’ heads – without even trying – as he is for his talent. And then there’s a montage of Yibo giving out towel after towel after towel, and my dude, you cannot keep up this pace. There are still too many dancers to see, and you don’t have that many towels. AAANNNND Towel Battle #1 (See Footnote 1).

Team Jackson Wang: I do like Gai Gai, although that may be influenced by the fact she’s working in the twilight area between hip-hop and contemporary that I have more familiarity with - but also, I suspect she’s pretty good in her genre. I thought Xiao Jie was inconsistent and didn’t stick the landing on his initial attempt, so I have to give you that hesitation, Jackson, even though you’ve somehow ended up the villain in my inner narrative for this show, for no particular reason I can yet discern. Maybe it’s that you’re the direct competition for Yibo’s team in the towel battles. Good enough. Anyway, Xiao Jie definitely stepped up his game for the battle with Bingo, so I can kind of see why both of them got a towel, but we’re not even halfway through this, and most of y’all are giving away towels like you have an endless supply. Yang Kai is a fucking menace with fantastic musicality, and I’m just gonna say it and take the fallout - I think he gave a better performance first time out of the gate than any of Yibo’s powerhouses did. Whatever power Klash has got, whatever skill Bouboo has got, Yang Kai feels more explosive and engaging, at least in these initial showings. He’s going to be one to beat, I’d hug him too, if he was on my team and was going to help me WIN. Yibo’s probably lucky that happened during his little stroll over to check out the competition, so that he can see they’re definitely competitive and be prepared for it. Also, Jackson, I have to admit - that face you made when Chao really kicked in? That was the same face I made, because wt actual f, you have a literal secret weapon – secret because he CAME FROM NOWHERE and NO ONE EVEN KNOWS him, how is that even possible, how did he get that good – fluid, creative, controlled, incredible musicality - without anyone having any idea who he even is? And then there’s a montage of Jackson just giving out towel after towel after towel, and my dude, you need to slow down. You can’t just be like, “THEY LOVE DANCE WITH ALL OF THEIR WHOLE HEARTS!!!!1111!!!!11!” I get it, but everyone there loves dance with all of their whole hearts, and there are not enough towels to send all of them on to the next round. ANNNND, Towel Battle #1 (See Footnote 1).

Team Lay Zhang: lol at how diplomatic you’re being, Lay Zhang – your team’s fierce roar startled you, OK. At this point, I suspect you’re the street most likely to have a knife fight break out before this is all over. I do like Alex, I think he’s got a lot of interesting, super-clean details in his moves, and he’s engaging - I cannot BELIEVE you made him battle that dude whose moves were so mushy, Lay Zhang, it leaves me doubting your ability to judge this thing. At first I thought maybe you were just looking for an excuse because you wanted to see Alex freestyle, but then you actually said something about both dancers being equal, and my estimation of you plummeted, and also sadly, my sound dropped out for the actual battle, including the part where the clearly inferior dancer fell over and then accidentally POPPED ALEX ONE IN THE EYE, and I TOLD YOU SO. I do agree it’s a good idea to make dancers in the same genre do some battling, so you can kind of plan out your towels and put together a team with broad strengths, instead of giving out towels like you’re making it rain for the first 20 contestants, and then you have 1,375 more people to get through, with 3 towels left, as EVERYONE ELSE seems to be doing, so it’s nice that at least one of you guys is thinking – if not actually acting - strategically. That was clearly not even a contest, though, GIVE ALEX HIS TOWEL and send him to the next round. Xiao Bao is hilarious, with his concern that his team captain, who’s into krump, which is “beating,” isn’t going to appreciate his waacking, which is “slapping.” I also don’t know a whole lot about waacking, so thanks for the primer, Xiao Bao, and don’t worry, your performance is just as engaging for those of us who don’t know what we’re watching as you are generally. You deserve that towel for your ability to interact with and engage your audience, alone. Lingo is a good solid performance, although he’s got his team captain strategizing edited over some of it, and here’s the thing: we are 1:56:00 into this, at this point, with another half hour to go, and all of you are starting to disappear into the sea of dancers who are very good at what you do, but at generally the same level? Anyway, Lingo, I approve of your ability to interact with your audience (read: your captain) to ensure engagement, too, so keep that up. Annnd, we actually haven’t seen that much of you guys, but it’s time for Towel Battle #2 (See Footnote 2).

Team Wallace Chung: I’m glad Su Lian Ya insisted on performing, I thought she started off slow but warmed up, and that ending was creepily fantastic and had me spontaneously grinning at the screen in delight. Then we lose sight of this group for a really long time, actually. We go back to find Wallace putting through a couple of urban dancers who we barely see, but who apparently claim to have some choreography experience, and he really likes that. TI shows up, and they’re solid, but honestly, not as good in this performance as they were in some of the stock footage the show threw up to introduce them, but Wallace remains super-excited about the idea of choreography and sends at least choreographer Zhang Jiang Peng through to the next round. And then, we really haven’t seen that much of you guys, either, which maybe doesn’t bode well, but it’s time for Towel Battle #2 (See Footnote 2).

FOOTNOTE 1, aka TOWEL BATTLE ONE, Team Yibo vs. Team Jackson, 3V3 freestyle: First of all, I have to say, I love Yibo - Mr. I Just Wanna Make Some Friends And Have Some Fun - being all, “I have three crappy white towels I’m stuck with for coming in last place that I can’t use to send dancers to the next round and that I DO NOT DESERVE, and I am getting BACK the colorful towels that ARE RIGHTFULLY MINE. I am coming for whoever is in my way.” Team Yibo is Bouboo, Klash, Dian Men, and OK, given what we’ve seen so far, that’s the safe choice, but honestly, I think we’re just taking some things for granted right now, and I’m not sure they actually have given the best performances so far. Yeah, I said it. Team Jackson is Yang Kai, Chao, and Xiao Jie, and … ok, on that last one, I think you probably could have substituted Bingo, but all right. Yang Kai is a definite yes. Chao will be great if he can stay out of his own head and not psych himself out, but given what we’ve seen so far, he’s an obvious pick. First round, Yang Kai vs. Klash, and Yang Kai is still a fucking menace, with super lines. Klash definitely stepped up his game for the battle, and I can’t get over the upper body strength he’s got, to get that kind of airy bounce in his moves, but to be honest, I can’t even be mad the first round went to Yang Kai and Team Jackson. Second round, Yang Kai is still … y’all, the beautiful lines from this guy in his poses, I can’t get over them, but I think he doesn’t have the stamina, his footwork is getting sloppy. Bouboo also steps up his game for an actual battle, his fluidity and control is amazing, and yeah, round to Team Yibo. Round three, Xiao Jie gives it a decent effort, but the polish isn’t there; meanwhile Bouboo is still in champion mode, and I was kind of surprised this was a split vote and went to another round. Xiao Jie absolutely surprised me, coming back stronger on his second try, although I suppose a more familiar genre helped, but Bouboo continues in champion mode. Round four, Chao looks like he’s going to throw up right before he steps out there, and then as soon as the music starts, it’s like, he doesn’t even think. The music just moves him. I feel like his dance vocabulary is more limited than Bouboo’s, though, and Bouboo’s flow is amazing at this point, so I feel like the judges just want to drag this out and see more dancing when we go to one more round. Strong effort all around, but yeah, round four and two towels to Team Yibo. I can’t really complain about that. I do feel like Yibo’s powerhouses have been holding back until now, though, and I’m not sure how I feel about THAT.

FOOTNOTE 2, aka TOWEL BATTLE TWO, Team Zhang vs. Team Wallace, 3V3 w/ captain: lol, Team Zhang really wants someone to pick the Sailor Moon song because they know Xiao Bao and his waacking will tear it up. Anyway, Team Zhang includes Lingo and Xiao Bao, who does not get his Sailor Moon song and continues to be hilarious in his disbelief about being chosen to participate in this battle, when he’s not looking almost as sick as Chao from Team Jackson before HIS performance. Team Wallace includes Su Lian Ya – and honestly, despite how I’m getting ready to bag on him for the entire rest of this battle recap, I like that Wallace put one of his female dancers up there for the battle - and some dude named Ba that they haven’t given us any footage of, up ‘til now, at least that I can remember and who I … don’t even know has been formally given a towel and sent on to the next round, yet? Oh wait, he must have, because there’s talk in the pause for choreography about somehow using the towels during the battle. Wallace relies on Su Lian Ya and Zhang Jiang Peng to choose Ba, and then Ba ends up choreographing a lot of the performance, at least from the edit we see. I continue to feel you may be in over your head, Wallace. This feeling … is not assuaged by your performance in the first round, which is fine, but not really up to the level of almost anyone whose name I’ve bolded so far in this entire recap. Also, using the towels was a cute idea, but it doesn’t translate well, and Team Wallace has a lot of wasted time throwing the towels around instead of actually. You know. Dancing. Lingo gets a credible solo during Team Zhang’s performance, and even though Xiao Bao is clearly lost during a good bit of his backup dancer duties, he manages not to throw up, which – given this team’s general skill level – should be enough to give them the first round, EXCEPT SOMEHOW Team Wallace gets the point from the judges, who then try to justify this inexplicable decision by saying Team Wallace had better interaction, I guess because of the hot mess with throwing the towels around, but adding that Team Zhang was more scattered, which what? More scattered than the hot mess with the towels? I’m not buying this. I can’t tell if they’re propping up Wallace or fucking with Lay Zhang’s head, but I’m having bad acid flashbacks to the many and varied ways dance show judges will try to gaslight you, telling you that things you just saw with your very own eyes did not actually happen when it’s right there! On camera! Visible, despite whatever edit bs you’re pulling! ANYWAY, they’re definitely managing to fuck with not only Lay Zhang’s head, but Xiao Bao’s, and Xiao Bao still doesn’t seem to have his choreography down, but they manage to pull it together enough to take the second round, which to be honest is kind of a muddled mess on everyone’s part. The only one who really stands out to me on this go’round is Su Lian Ya, but OK, Team Zhang might have had it slightly more together as a unit. And then, yeah, OK, I think they were fucking with Lay Zhang’s head, because we then find out that, holy shit, the song the show powers-that-be chose for the tie-breaking third round is that gd Sailor Moon song, and we can all see the writing on the wall. Poor Team Wallace is no match for Xiao Bao, who frankly, carries this entire round on his shoulders without breaking a sweat and barely needs any backup dancers to do it. There’s some ridiculously dramatic reveal of scoring, with the judges dragging out their decisions like this was any actual contest - I’m beginning to suspect that some of them grew up with Wallace Chung posters on their bedroom walls - but finally, round and towel to Team Zhang.

Cut to a little bit of Next Time On, and wow, the first two-and-a-half-hour episode is over, and we aren’t finished with the initial round yet. It’s gonna be Christmas before I make it halfway through this season.

#street dance of china #sdoc episode reax #should i put yibo in the tags for this?#sure #i guess #wang yibo #anyone else?

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an-organized-confusion · 3 years

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The Sides As Defense Mechanisms

(Major grain of salt afforded here... because this is Freudian/Psychoanalytic stuff. Not meant to paint everyone as plain old jerks tho. I enjoy everyone, just thought it’d be an interesting exercise to acknowledge flaws and strengths... even if it mightn’t sound it. Focusing just on Vaillant’s categories here.)

Roman

Projection (pathological/immature) - Onto Patton for desired stuff, onto Remus for the undesired stuff... Onwards to Insecurity Land!

Acting out (immature) - he does share some impulsivity with Remus, ngl, but increasingly regretful/doubtful whenever this happens though...

Passive-aggressiveness (immature) - he can have sass rivaling that of Janus, lbr. (Tho at times I wanna say it’s oft stuff that reads as such but isn’t actually intended that way 100% of the time. See this man’s nickname game. Holy shit, I’m with so much of the fandom that it can be hard to come up with new ones, he’s a NATURAL.)

*Schizoid Fantasy (immature) - Given his realm, I could def see him retreating in that direction sometimes - thinking about the “Moving On” episodes here a bit. Though I think I see fan interps play with that in way more detail than canon. (*Smacks trunk/bonnet-* this bad boy can fit so much insecurity in it.)

Displacement (neurotic) - Maybe a touch of that at Remus, Janus, HIMSELF... instead of Patton. (None of whom really deserve painting in B&W/simplistic terms, imo. It’s just simpler to reach for, what can we say, human brains love them there heuristics/shortcuts.)

Reaction formation (neurotic) - he kind of embodies this, when juxtaposed against Remus in particular.

Repression (neurotic) - poor dude keeps getting mixed messages. orz

Altruism (mature) - He did kind of build his identity around this... still going to need to find a way to achieve this with healthy balance, though.

Humor (mature) - granted, there’s a bunch of self-deprecation to unpack there... but he is an entertaining as hell character.

SUBLIMATION (mature) - just by his function of creativity, he can use that to channel everything negative/unpleasant into an art/performance.

Remus

Distortion (pathological) - often exaggerating the worst stuff of human experience, in bringing them to light

Acting out (immature) - I mean, this IS Remus, we’re talking about. Champion of the Impulsive, Channeler of Intrusive Thoughts. No Think, Just Do. Pffft. (Okay, he demos a great deal of perceptiveness/intuition.... but he is still ALSO a jackass and no one is going to convince me otherwise here. Lots of love.)

Hypochondriasis (immature) - I mean health/mortality worries can be a HUGE font for intrusive thoughts...

Reaction formation (neurotic) - Roman’s reaction’s gotta be formed/reinforced against something. Newton’s third law and all that.

HUMOR (mature) - As warped as hell as it gets with him, he’s aaall about that.

Sublimation (mature) - because Creativity, too. But also, a good fertile ground for more BREADTH of sublime expressions.

Virgil

Distortion (pathological) - but is being tempered (see what was highlighted especially in “Negative Thinking”)

Acting out (immature) - Sometimes shit’s too overwhelming, not to. I get it.

Hypochondriasis (immature) - see the anxious underpinning to that mechanism

Intellectualization (neurotic) - I think he uses some of this tactic... though it’s with less... eloquence than in the case of Janus and Logan.

Anticipation (mature) - I mean, part of Anxiety’s whole purpose is to take into consideration discomfort. Again, there’s the need for temperance~

Humor (mature) - he’s hella sardonic about it, but he’s a sense of it for sure. (Like with Roman... might have a propensity to being a little too self-deprecating.)

Janus

Distortion (pathological) - maybe just a touch, skewing a bit close to a “dog eat dog“ mentality (but an important interlocutor to Patton)

Acting out (immature) - I think generally has more patience than the rest of the Dork Sides... but he can and will get snippy.

Passive-aggressiveness (immature) - given how much sarcasm and double-speak this guy uses...

Intellectualization (neurotic) - definitely puts on these kind of airs in his rhetoric.

Anticipation (mature) - in his case, he’s trying to highlight the discomfort of self-neglect for consideration.

Humor (mature) - I think he wants to appear Serious if it gets the point across... but man’s also hilarious too. I mean “can’t plant too many trees“ absolutely kills me.

Logan

Denial (pathological) - esp as it relates to his own emotionality...

Acting out (immature) - anger outbursts say what?

Dissociation (neurotic) - back on it with the emotional self-reflection shit. :,D

Intellectualization (neurotic) - HOHOHO. Yes. All of the yes.

Anticipation (mature) - accommodating for less charged and more actionable interpretations of how things can turn out.

Suppression (mature) - Logic’s capacity to allowing one to put aside but still acknowledge emotions/etc. to get though Stuff is useful as hell. (Obviously, on an as needed basis, not ALL of the time.)

Patton

Denial (pathological) - esp as it relates to some personal values, but is being broken down

Passive-aggressiveness (immature) - I think it was even less intentional - but he does have a bit of snark/sass (far more subtle than in Janus’s case) and might read as such w/ the “softened language“ stuff

Projection (immature) - treating Janus and Remus as too antithetical to him, at least on a knee-jerk basis. (I think he’s making some effort to get better at that - to Roman’s sad confusion.)

Reaction formation (neurotic) - like in the case of the twins, this is mostly with Janus.

Repression (neurotic) - I just. Yes. Patton, it’s okay to indulge in the neg valence end of the emotional pool, my dude. Aint bad to feel bad sometimes.

Altruism (mature) - definitely has the predilection for that, kind of inherently. Just gotta strike that healthy balance, similarly with Roman.

Humor (mature) - the. gawd. damn. puns. holy. shit.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #(writing a lot of roman angst def got me biased but... roman is a gd mess)#(i love all these dorks but hot damn - they're all hot messes)#(stuff not ascribed doesn't mean exclusively non-applicable tho)#(goin' by strongest pings to me~)#(but seriously man - 'too many trees' was an A+ line)

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mugionthewater · 4 years

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Tsumugi Shirogane Deepdive: Prologue

I’m in a DR mood right now, and really enjoying revisiting Tsumugi in particular, so I thought I’d do a chapter-based retrospective focusing on all the cool Tsumugi material! A reread project especially rewarding for a character like Mugi, so I’m really excited.

In this series, I’m focusing a lot on all the foreshadowing, and also what we can extrapolate about Tsumugi’s true character along the way. I’ll be doing this chapter-by chapter, including the prologue as well as an installment for her Free Time Events.

Full spoilers for V3 under the cut.

The Pre-Prologue

We first see Tsumugi in the gym by the exisals to get their uniforms and their memories. Tsumugi herself has four lines of dialogue in this scene, nothing that particularly stands out, but there are a couple of things worth noting about how she (and everyone else) is dressed.

Kaede describes how she was kidnapped on her way to school, and it sure looks like that’s the case for almost everyone in the room. We’re used to seeing DR characters in flashy outfits that vaguely resemble school uniforms but actually reflect their individuality, so when the game first shows them in an ensemble lineup like this, it’s a lot more striking.

Not so much in this CG. While there are plenty of visual details that tell us about these characters (Saihara’s already hiding under a hat in his sprites; Iruma is revealing; Kiibo and Gonta are buttoned up and orderly, but Kaito’s shirt and jacket are undone to show a bold-colored undershirt), their uniforms look like they’re doing what uniforms are supposed to do: be bland and blend in.

What about Tsumugi? Tsumugi wears a basic uniform like everyone else, but this is where we get the game’s first indication that all is not what it seems with this girl. The clue is the blue. She is the only one in the lineup whose primary color isn’t a neutral tone. What’s more, it’s the same shade of blue Tsumugi is associated with throughout the game. Visually, part of her is already in character as Tsumugi Shirogane, SHSL Cosplayer.

Of course, there’s a much bigger item foreshadowing Tsumugi as the bad guy, which is that in advance of everyone getting their “memories”, the main emphasis is their new clothes delivered by the Monokubs.

There are a couple of reasons the clothes are significant. For starters, there’s a direct line to Tsumugi’s cosplay talent. For anyone inclined to suspect her before starting the game on account of her talent (and her general don’t-look-at-me-I’m-not-suspicious vibes), this is immediate theory fodder. This also primes the audience to look at the setting of V3 with a critical eye, between the contrast of the kids’ boring outfits and their flashy new ones and the Monokubs making explicit references to starting the “story“, there is an immediate suggestion of artifice that runs all the way down to their identities. Not for nothing is Kaede’s magical girl transformation visually similar to the memory light.

Another thing: pre-memory light, the person in the room whose outfit is the least uniform-y is Amami.

At the very least, it’s a look that’s noticeably more casual than what most of the cast is wearing. After Chapter 6, we know that Amami made it to the end of the 52nd Killing Game before he and Tsumugi were condemned to execution via participating in the next killing game- which he seems to be realizing in this scene- so it’s possible they’re coming right off the heels of the last killing game. It’s an ongoing mystery what his relationship with her was like up to this point? Does he know she’s the ringleader? Is “Tsumugi Shirogane“ anything like the person she was in the last killing game, assuming she was even there?

I’m not confident Tsumugi really switched to a new persona for the 53rd Killing Game, even though fake identities is kind of her whole deal. I’ll get more into why in this series, but I think a lot of the character we see in the game is the “real“ Tsumugi, to the extent that such a person even exists.

Introducing Tsumugi Shirogane: Professional Cosplayer, Sex God

If you go back and read the promotional blurbs for V3, Tsumugi’s mention her tendency to get so lost in thought that she’ll ignore everyone around her. This little trait isn’t super weird at first, until you realize later in the game that she doesn’t carry the shtick past the first chapter. It’s like she wrote the character blurbs herself, realized everybody has a wacky “thing“ that would come up immediately in the introductions, and came up with an act of low-grade wackiness so she’d fit in in the prologue.

This is great stuff, looking back. It gives an intro in brief to the many contradictions of Tsumugi Shirogane. On one hand, it’s overly phony and performative. But on the other hand, there’s a core of truth there about her character- she really is someone who stays in her thoughts without a care for anyone around her, albeit less in the cute way and more in the horrifying sociopath kind of way.

It also tells us something important about Tsumugi’s commitment to the Killing Game. She cares about maintaining the integrity of this world and its characters, but is pretty indifferent about maintaining a role for herself. She doesn’t give a shit about having a storyline or even much of a character. The pleasure of DR comes from what she can get as an observer/consumer.

This is entirely consistent with what she tells Kaede and Saihara about herself and her feelings about cosplay in the actual introduction.

This is the ethos that makes me wonder how dishonest Tsumugi really is. She’s dishonest as hell, of course, but given that she later applies the entire DR LARP reality show experience as “cosplay“, what she says about her convictions largely rings true. She clearly cares about making her tribute an authentic one (lol), which extends to her being the primary creative director inside her fiction bubble.

It partly explains why she spends the next five chapters being little more than furniture. In her mind, her job as a producer precludes her from being a character in her own right, because doing anything to pull focus is tantamount to self-promotion, and, well, that’s an abuse of power that gets in the way of the story!

(sidebar: there are some fascinating things we could speculate about what she says about cosplay relates to her relationship with the rest of Team Danganronpa and the outside world, but this post is getting long, so I’ll save it for another day)

Like everything else about Tsumugi, it’s not until the end that you can fully contextualize how sinister she’s being here. What she passes off as a cute passion for cosplay is actually a bone-deep sense of consumer entitlement taken to a logical extreme. Tsumugi is a more vicious indictment of terrible nerds and a selfish fandom than anything Hifumi Yamada could embody. She loves DR so much, and feels so strongly that nobody should be participating in DR with any corrupt motives, that anything less than the real deal is unacceptable. To this end, she will happily transplant entirely new emotional realities on the others so that even the emotional torture of the Killing Game is authentic. In Tsumugi’s selfish nerd brain, this is the important part of the drama of Killing Games, and anyone who disagrees with her approach is a fake fan who doesn’t deserve any kind of creative control.

Anyways, there’s more to say about Tsumugi’s introduction, so moving on

Some pretty overt foreshadowing here. In the Japanese script, her reference is ep. 53 of Kiteretsu Daihyakka instead of Doraemon. I like the change for the dub, even though it’s pretty obvious. Someone who knows DR primarily through the dub is less likely to know about the franchise’s connection to Doraemon, anyway.

Tsumugi also points out the weird dragon statue in the hallway that will lead into a new part of the school down the line. It’s a neat little metatextual trick on the audience, because it’s the kind of thing that’s not suspicious at all on a first playthrough. She’s an NPC in a DR game, of course her dialogue is gonna point out plot devices that will be relevant shortly, but on a reread you know she’s being deliberate about it. This is far from the last time this kind of thing happens with Tsumugi.

Lastly, this charming observation from Kaede about why she’s maybe not so plain afterall.

Kaede puts it in the worst way possible, but it’s interesting that she, a person with a generally good read on people, decides immediately that there’s more to Mugi than meets the eye. Not only that, she relates it specifically to an audience spending a lot of time looking at her. If she were any less gross about it, Kaede making this kind of observation would land like a big clue.

This leaves us with the biggest question from the prologue: if Kaede wasn’t too busy being horny and gay, could she have put two and two together and thwarted the ringleader?

There is SO much more to say about Tsumugi, so I’m really excited to dig deep into other chapters!

#tsumugi shirogane #ndrv3 #meta

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mannien · 3 years

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Mornings in Sheffield Park | TH - CHAPTER 1

The one with stress, takeout food around the world, late night walks, and Disney dreams.

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: some stress, some anxiety, mention of sex, and a lot of smiles

Masterlist

Fourth week into the morning pitch meetings at BBC, Millie felt lifeless and drained. The room was usually exploding with ideas, creative energy, and a lot of constructive feedback to the few interns who were allowed to join the conversation with editors, writers, and producers. That morning had started ugly enough for her: with an overwhelming number of e-mails about the schedule and missing content for Politics Live.

When she first landed her spot at BBC, Millie was over the moon. She was constantly calling it a dream come true, a once in a lifetime opportunity for her to begin a writing career in media. Her degree seemed to be the best choice for her future and Millie was ready to prove that graduating from humanities can actually land her a decent job. Her first days were filled with morning preparations, early commute to the city centre and exceptionally smoothed out shirts. The work environment in such a fast-paced industry felt inspiring and daunting at the same time, but Millie felt obligated to use this experience to its full potential. Each day she attempted to learn more than the day before and possibly show off a tiny bit more of her creative skills to her superiors. She spent her evenings researching topics and people, trying not to fall out of the loop. Being one step forward was hard work, one that Millie desperately wanted to ace.

The second week of her internship brought a slight shift to her agenda. After grasping the general concepts of working for a major radio and TV broadcasting company, she was aware of the production processes. She tried to happily follow up all the details about the work of a writer, a researcher, or an editor – just so she could be prepared for the follow-up of the introductory week. And as she hoped her interview was remembered and she would soon contribute to any program touching upon music or pop culture, her dreams and calls were slowly fading away. The intern manager ascribed her to the team devoted strictly to politics and daily news, having no vacancies for the popular radio programs. Even though she took whatever spot was offered, it was only to get more insight and experience.

Having already managed to speak up a few times during the morning routines in the conference room, Millie eased herself into the work environment and was treated like a regular employee. But the first wave of success quickly passed, especially when she was hit with growing emptiness in her brain. She did not enjoy politics, so as far as she could, she attempted to sneak in a sociological aspect into the context. But her tactic had an expiration date.

A couple of heads were expectantly turned at Millie when she was unsurely stuttering her weak ideas for the upcoming programme. She knew it wasn’t going well and she was mentally cursing herself for trying to impress the producers that much so early on.

“This isn’t gonna work. We’ve covered this enough in the evening news. Let’s take five, and maybe you’ll come up with a different angle. I’ll give you another shot here.”

Hugh, the head writer took off his glasses and watched her fidget in her seat. She nodded and took a deep breath, before leaving the room for a short break. Her mind was racing in panic; she wasn’t ready to admit that she didn’t have any idea. She walked back and forth through the corridor until she cursed quietly and walked away to the main hall. She pulled her phone from the back pocket and without overthinking this anymore, she called her boyfriend. He picked up after the third ring.

“Babe, can I call you back…”

“No, Frank,” She felt determined and fierce. Her hands shook from the pure view on board members slowly coming back from the kitchen with fresh coffee mugs. They were probably waiting to hear her another take on the TV show which Millie, wholeheartedly, was beginning to hate. “My work on the programme is too basic and I’ve been roasted for the past fifteen minutes or so. Hugh has me in the spotlight in front of everyone. Help me, please?”

“It’s not your fault they’ve given you a job you’re not good at, babe. It’s just an internship, they will roast you anyway.”

Millie’s lungs were ready to stop working and suffocate her. She feared she might start hyperventilating, or at least meet up with a panic attack from the nerves. Franklin’s reaction seemed to be absolutely unfair and inconsiderate of her actual feelings, and he must have felt that through the piercing silence on the line.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t worry so much about it. They will probably just give you another placement where you’ll fit more, I don’t see why it’s such a bad thing.” And just like that, she started doubting herself and her right to overthink her situation. It didn’t sit well with Millie and she could feel anger slowly making its way through her veins.

“Can’t you just fucking help me? This one time?” She lost her temper, she lost her patience. At the same time Riley, one of the end writers, started waving at her from the end of the hall as to show her that her time is coming to an end. “I need a hook, or something that would spark a debate. Brexit-themed, maybe. Can you think of anything?”

Frank groaned loudly. He wasn’t exactly happy that she made him break down his ambitious wall and let her in on topics he was too invested in. Millie could hear him moving around as he left his desk of the equally large office of The Guardian, until the line went surprisingly quiet. Her anger and fear made her clutch her phone tightly to her ear, while her legs started carrying her slowly to the terrifying conference room.

“Think internationally. See what the Spanish had to say about May’s resignation from the Office. Think economics in the EU. Try to stand on the Union’s side and do some fair judgement.”

“Give me facts, not ideas. You’re the one who knows politics.”

“Spanish government says that May’s resignation is bad news. Compare it to the popular opinion that she was the worst Prime Minister since the 18th century and the American war on independence.” Millie breathed in, trying to desperately grasp all the details he just provided her with.

“That’s a… harsh and history-digging argument,” She mumbled in surprise, “where did you get that from?” She grabbed a yellow post-it note from the reception desk and quickly scribbled the key words on it. Her briefing on politics was never something like this and she could feel the embarrassment making its way into her heart. It wasn’t her way of thinking and she felt like a fraud.

“I can’t tell you that.” By the end of the single sentence Millie could feel the blood escaping her face, making her look pale and scared for dear life. She didn’t want to have heard that sentence, she was definitely happier not knowing how did he come up with a story like this. That was one of the many reasons she tried not to talk business with him.

“An opinion entry. A column for The Guardian. Shit, you just busted one of your colleagues.”

“Sometimes I hate it that you’re smart. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You just saved my internship!”

“Please don’t say that. I will pretend that we just talked about the weather.”

“I’ll spend them the details. You’re the best, Frank.”

“Alright, go kick ass.”

And that she did. Franklin did save her internship, mainly because Millie avoided the specifics about who and why said something so harsh about the resigning Prime Minister. However, it definitely did spark interest among the production board. Afraid of not being so lucky next time, she decided to politely suggest a replacement for her permanent internship division within BBC, due to her ‘personal discomfort with discussions over issues of such importance and potential shame to their glorious country.’

Millie felt bad for using her boyfriend’s knowledge for survival at work. She wasn’t genuine and her idea didn’t come from her hard work - it was sourced in fear and anxiety-driven reactions. This situation proved to her that she wasn’t fit for the position, but it also raised her stress levels around the fact that she couldn’t get by on her own in the industry. She didn’t want others to navigate her through it all, but the conversation she had with Frank had also made her uncomfortable. Her need of support in a stressful situation was primarily turned down, so—naturally to her character—she started to worry even more.

With a heavy heart and two bags of Wagamama takeout, she walked up the stairs to his apartment. She was usually working until later hours than Frank, so all she really needed was for him to open the door for her. She leaned on the doorframe as she waited patiently for the two turns of the lock. He opened still in his work attire – tailored jeans and a light grey button up shirt. He was holding his phone next to his ear and humming approvingly to the speaker when he looked her up and down. He winked at her and let her in, as he continued to talk with someone.

Inside, Millie found the TV turned on with a football game playing. His work jacket was still hanging on the back of the tall stool in the kitchen, and the grocery bags laid unpacked on the table. She took off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she made a little room for their food on the countertop. Pulling off her sweater, she peeked into the shopping bags – she wasn’t surprised to find a couple bottles of beer and food essentials, a multipack of tissues and a large box of condoms.

“What’s all this, babe?” Franklin came up to her and briefly kissed her on the lips, before looking into the boxes with deliciously smelling food.

“I just thought it might be nice to eat some goodies,” She smiled, trying to sniff out his mood first. He smiled back at her with approval and reached for the plates in the cupboard, so she continued, “also, it’s a ‘thank you for being my saviour today,’ kinda thing.”

“Ah, yeah. I bet everyone on my floor will hate BBC’s guts for that.” Frank said it so casually, with a shrug to follow up, that Millie struggled to understand the dynamic he had at The Guardian. He seemed to be a great fit for his team, because a week into his new job, he was already invited for Friday drinks and talked about his co-workers just like anyone would about their long-time friends. She couldn’t understand how was he getting so lucky at any step, but the last thing she wanted to do is doubt him. Any time worries and competitiveness clouded her brain, Millie was making extra room for compassion and support.

Frank unloaded some of the curry on his plate and started eating with a fork, and then made his way to the living room where he spread out on the sofa. He didn’t say anything else, somewhat scaring Millie that he will let her know he’s uncomfortable randomly, on a promisingly good day. Trying to figure out her brain, she followed his actions and took some extra food to the coffee table, before sitting down next to him.

“But you’re not gonna get into trouble for that, are you?” she was biting the inside of her cheek hard, definitely not used to not being judged for using someone else’s help.

“Nah, I don’t think so. They don’t know I’ve got a girl at BBC, so I should be just fine.”

Millie ate her curry in silence, suddenly at loss of words driven by his surprising statement. She didn’t want to raise an argument or seem overly sensitive. But for some reason she hoped that he would talk about her at work, especially considering his already formed strong bonds in the office, and a definitely higher success rate in his position. Ever so charming Franklin, he always glowed among people. She couldn’t really fight with this, so she just kept any comments to herself and focused on her food.

Frank switched the channel to the evening news and pulled her to his side once they were done eating. It comforted Millie to know that at the end of the day, they could both enjoy each other’s company, no matter what was happening at work. She didn’t pay much attention to the news, but rather focused on the way he reacted to it and what he enjoyed. She felt too tired to get invested in another load of politics, so she just soaked in his warmth and curled more into his side. He smelled of coffee and heavy, musky cologne that he liked to reapply frequently. Millie closed her eyes and breathed out the stress that weighed her down after a long day, finally finding peace.

“I’ll go grab a beer, you want one?” he abruptly stood up, making her slightly loose her balance and lean back towards the pillows. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips in a thin line.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? You’re awfully quiet today.” He spoke already from the kitchen, not even catching a glimpse of her pursed lips.

“I just need to wind down. It’s been stressful day.” She pushed a little smile on her cheeks as he came back with a frown. He took a few large sips of his drink and put it on the table, before lowering himself on the couch and leaning over Millie.

“I can help you relax, if you want.” He raised an eyebrow in a flirtatious manner, leaning into her and leaving a series of delicate kisses on her lips. He then moved onto her jaw and sucked on her skin, but never left a mark. Slowly massaging her waist, he slid his hand under her shirt and sprawled his fingers across her hip to pull her closer.

Millie enjoyed the warmth that started to spread through her body, but she couldn’t find any energy to give some of it back. She felt drained and exhausted, so a mere thought about participating in sexual activities was sure to make her at least slightly uncomfortable. Unless Frank was willing to change something about it.

“Okay, hold on,” her chuckle and a light push at his chest made him narrow his eyebrows in confusion, “I don’t think I’ve got enough energy today, Frankie.” Her whisper was followed by a reassuring smile. She weaved her fingers through his short hair and kissed the tip of his nose.

“What if I provide you with some energy first?”

“What, you’ll give me an energy drink?” She laughed at her poor joke and he chuckled, too, but more at her silliness than anything else. He laid her down comfortably and cautiously peppered her with kisses on her neck and the tiny bit of cleavage that was available without unbuttoning her shirt. She was slowly giving in, allowing him to get lower on her body and touch her. Frank either wanted to make her feel better, or was really horny. But whatever the case was, she didn’t want to stop him and ruin his enthusiasm. The glow in his eyes and admiration painted across his face were too intoxicating to back away. His touch was filled with sparks of emotions and a kind of drive that Millie was addicted to. She felt wanted and needed, and that’s what made her return the heated kisses despite her hooded, weary eyes.

They walked hand in hand through the chilly evening, sometime after she persuaded Frank to walk her to the nearest tube station. The wind was slightly tickling her neck, but other than that she felt at peace. She let her hair down, flowing gently with each blow of the air and lightly caressing her face like a safety blanket. They swayed their hands until they had to make room for a group of people passing by.

“Jane texted me about a little get together this Friday,” She mumbled into the night, trying not to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere around them.

“Ah, yeah. Aaron told me about it, too. I guess we’re going, right?”

“Yeah, it might be nice. The girls mentioned this new club near their apartment? I think that’s where they wanted to go.”

“Cool. I could use a little break.”

As they continued their walk, Millie mostly focused on leading the way through tight London streets. Franklin’s parents rented him an apartment in the city centre, close to everything you could dream of in London. It also meant crowded streets at any hour, so to have a nice walk around the neighbourhood usually requested it to be late at night. But it didn’t matter to him, as long as he had a short commute to the office and all other things that life requested from him, within reach. There were times when he would mention coming back to Manchester and supporting his parents at their law firm, but Millie saw how much he preferred his growing career as a journalist. Mathilda and William were a generous couple, so they shared their resources with him and tried to help him get into the business as smoothly as possible. Sometimes she wanted to ask him about his permanent position at The Guardian and whether his name had anything to do with it, but she never felt comfortable enough to do it. Some things were better left unspoken.

Reaching the staircase to the station, Franklin stopped and made her turn to him and look up at his smiling face.

“Thanks for coming over tonight. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.” She smiled shyly, nodding her head in reassurance.

“I wish you could finally move to the city, though. It would be so much easier if you were a few blocks away.”

“You do realize that even if I moved out, it wouldn’t be anywhere nearby?” Her chuckle resonated through her body, almost as if she wanted to humour herself at the topic that had started to come up more often in their conversations.

“I could ask around the office if anyone has a room available to rent.”

“But I don’t want to share my personal space with strangers, you know this. Don’t try to change my mind about it.” She smiled tightly.

Frank has been trying to persuade her into moving out for months. He wanted to be closer to her, within a short train journey, rather than a whole commute in and out of Kingston. He felt comfortable in the business of London, and Millie liked to call him out on being spoiled by having an apartment on his own in such a lively part of the city. But she wasn’t financially ready to leave her family home in equally comfortable Southwest London, where she had all she needed within her reach, and her social life was just a tiny bit longer train trip away. It was a source of their small disputes from time to time, because it was Millie who spent more time on going to his place and spending time there. Naturally, it made her feel more engaged in their relationship and Frank tried his best make up for the difference. But one thing that never occurred, was Millie staying over for longer than a night. Even a night’s sleepover was a rare event, somehow always blessed by excuses from either one of them.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he pecked her lips and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I talk about it out of concern, okay?”

“Okay. But I like my train rides and I like Kingston. So let’s just deal with it for now, yeah?”

“’Course,” He sent her a tight smile before giving her one last kiss. “Text me when you get home.”

“Will do.”

Millie was one of those people who could be easily judged as thinkers. Years of taking trains and buses in and out of central London taught her to cherish every moment of peace she gets during her journeys. That’s how she learned to create playlists for each season – summer commutes were always different than autumn ones; they required different sounds and lyrical quality. Intense months during university semesters also showed her how to read fast between the stops and how to juggle standing on the tube and holding an open book without falling, as the train slowed and rushed every few seconds.

As she was approaching her station in Kingston, she stopped the music but kept her earphones in. A bunch of other people was hurrying to get out of the train and get home as soon as possible, but after leaving the station, she would have a lonely 15-minute walk to her neighbourhood, so she always tried to stay alert in the evenings. Getting on the sidewalk in the busiest area of Kingston, she closed her book and put it back in her backpack, pulled the jacket tighter around her middle and continued her steady walk.

The air was getting crispier with each minute outside. It was refreshing and calm, disturbed only by a few laughs from the pub across the street and two cars passing her by. She turned into one of the quieter streets, where the buildings were becoming shorter and more separated from each other. Brick fences and trimmed hedges adorned the concrete sidewalks on both sides of the street, illuminated only by a few lanterns. Most of the light was coming from the windows in a row of semi-detached houses that Millie has known for a good chunk of her life.

Right when she wanted to cross the street and take a right, she heard a subtle clicking of a dog collar and a leash. Soft padding from the back was slowly approaching her and becoming louder, as well as someone’s whistle.

“Tess, come here!” a hushed call didn’t disrupt the peace of the night, but rather added the familiarity that Millie adored. She slowed her walk and turned around, just in time to be met with lightly jogging blue Staffordshire Bull Terrier. She panted lightly with her tongue out and reached Millie’s legs, where she tucked her head and mewled timidly.

“Oh, and who do we have here?” Millie chuckled at the dog’s persistence in keeping close. She scratched her head and patted her on the back, “are you on your evening walk, Tessa? Is that right?”

“We didn’t mean to scare you, Millie,” Dominic reached them and sent Millie a kind and apologetic smile, “good evening.”

“Hi, it’s good to see you.” She beamed at the middle-aged man, whom she learned to adore like a family member.

“Likewise, yeah. Heading home?”

“I am, just got off the train.”

“We will keep you company, then. Is that alright?” He fixed his glasses and leaned down to attach the leash to Tessa’s collar. Millie’s insides warmed and her mind calmed down at the idea that she will get to spend a few minutes with a friend.

“Absolutely, thank you.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. I bet Tom would have my head, hadn’t I offered,” they chuckled at the mention of his son. Their laughter died off comfortably and escaped into the night air, while Millie reminisced about the caring nature of the Hollands. “How is it going at BBC?” he asked after a moment, letting her go first through a narrow passage.

“It’s… going,” she smiled shyly, not sure how to dress up her words. In Dominic’s company she always felt one step behind in her creative skills; his writing and comic abilities exceeded her capabilities, or so she thought. “but I feel like I’ve definitely hit an end with politics. I know it’s only been a month, but it’s just… it keeps on proving that I should be writing about something else.”

“Oh, it’s totally understandable. Rest assured, you’re not the only one stuck like this,” They turned the corner onto her street. “but I wish you luck there. They have some sensible editors, so I assume you’ll get a chance at something else as well.”

“I hope so. Today I asked them about switching departments and the intern manager told me she will think about it, so there is a tiny light.”

“Something will always work out. You’re smart, you’ll find your way there.”

Dom and Millie continued down the sidewalk, until Tessa stopped near the gate to Millie’s house. She sniffed the pavement and turned back to the girl who crouched down to pet the Staffy one last time.

“Thanks for walking with me,” her smile was genuine, coming straight from her heart. “please say hi to Nikki and the boys. Is Sam still home?”

“He is, he starts his practice at the end of June. So, we all will be here to celebrate your birthdays.”

“Oh, that’s great! It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”

“That’s true. But you’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“I know, thank you.” With fondness painted across her face, she scratched Tessa’s ear and stood up straight, reaching for the keys in her pocket.

“Have a good night.”

“You too. Bye, Tess!”

Whenever she got the chance to interact with someone from their family, Millie instantly felt their love and care penetrate her straight to the core. It was this kind of relationship that had been built through the years, only making it stronger and bringing it closer to the concept of family.

Nikki, Dom’s wife and Anna, Millie’s mother met shortly before Millie and Tom were born. At first only neighbours, soon they became best friends to the point of engaging their families in a kind affair. Greetings at the doorstep turned into late night family dinners and weekends away with the kids. They were used to spending most of the birthdays and holidays together, especially when Millie and Tom’s birthdays two days apart brought them all closer. She raced her best friend in Anna’s womb and came out to this world right before the brown-haired boy. Ever since the Beavers celebrated the birth of their third and youngest daughter, the Hollands began their journey with four boys. They always stayed close and treated each other like family, deeming it necessary to nourish their friendship and turn it into something everlasting. The example of their parents taught Millie and Tom to mimic the closeness and made them create their own little world.

Millie’s older sisters also treated Tom, Harry, Sam and Paddy like brothers, but not as much as Millie did. Samantha and Liz were already grown toddlers when the families got together, so they figured more as the female patrons of their youngest sister and her adventures with the boys. But Millie and Tom’s friendship turned into something so effortless and harmless that no supervision was necessary. They were each other’s partners in crime, best friends from next door. Their mothers had signed them up for the same dance classes, helped them get to the same summer carnivals, and let them have late nights in makeshift dens. Millie was one of the first people their dog, Tessa, got familiar with. She missed him dearly when he started his journey as a young actor, but Nikki made sure he always made the time to call his best friend when the time zones were somewhat cooperating. They nurtured their friendship through Millie’s education and Tom’s career, not stopping even for a moment. He was there for her always, carrying her home when she scratched her knee after falling off the slings. She would help him with homework whenever he felt too embarrassed to ask his parents. Tom escorted her home from her disaster of a prom; he was the first one to understand her anxiety and help her through it. And Millie always read the books and scripts Tom needed to prepare for auditions. Just like that, they always found home in one another.

Their house smelled of baking and freshly watered plants. As quietly as possible, Millie took off her shoes and tip-toed into the kitchen, turning on only the least invasive, small lights. She put down her backpack and lightly stretched, letting out a tired, yet content breath. Her eyes scanned the kitchen in search for the source of the sweet scent, and there it was, on a cooling rack in the corner, covered with a tea towel – fresh lemon sponge cake, the favourite of Millie’s mother. Lightly dusted with powdered sugar, it added an extra layer of sweet comfort to the late night’s atmosphere. She left the cake untouched, but put the kettle on to quickly make herself a cup of tea for a good night’s sleep. She let out an overwhelming yawn and rested her hips on the side of the countertop, patiently waiting for the water to boil.

She felt her phone vibrate in the back pocket of her jeans. The brightness of the screen was almost blinding, until it adjusted to the low lighting in the room. She could feel the anticipation growing in the back of her head as she noticed a new message.

(Tom) I got you something today

After a second or two, a picture loaded under the message. Millie gasped and smiled like mad, when he showed her a pair of Minnie Mouse sequin ears. It was an artefact that Millie has always dreamt of, not having an opportunity to go to Disneyland ever in her childhood. She awaited the chance with high hopes and wandering mind, but she knew the trip had to be thorough, well-planned, and wholesomely happy.

(Me) You were in Disneyland????

(Tom) yeah we did promo for spidey today

(Me) I’m so jealous rn

(Me) THANK YOU FOR THE EARS!!!!!

(Tom) it’s alright

(Tom) I didn’t get any weird looks at all

(Tom) Just casually carried around this shiny sparkling beauty

(Me) I bet you loved this feeling

(Me) I bet you bought yourself a pair too

(Tom) Don’t tell anyone

(Me) You could always pretend they’re for Tessa

(Me) I just saw her and your Dad btw

Whenever her and Tom texted, it always sparked a never-ending conversation about sweet nothings. They mocked each other, talked about their days, spoke about all things home. It allowed them a safe space from their daily hustles; Millie was able to breathe lightly and happily, and Tom had a chance to detach from the world he desperately tried not to drown in.

Almost spilling the tea, she slowly made it upstairs without losing the sight of her phone screen. She struggled to turn off the lights in the corridor without making a noise but somehow, she managed not to disturb her parents too much, as she reached her bedroom. Safe within her own little space, she put down the mug and let go of her backpack and jacket. She threw herself on the softest bedspread and waited patiently for Tom’s reply.

The text bubble stopped and a massage didn’t appear, but her phone started ringing. Millie answered the FaceTime call and waited for the camera on his phone to adjust and show his familiar face.

“I had a meeting with Disney and they want me to participate in one of their projects for a Marvel-themed ride at Disneyland,” from a crooked angle she could see his neatly gelled hair and uneven eyebrows. Tom was walking somewhere, but then sat down and perched his phone on the mug that stood on the coffee table, so that she could see him better.

“That’s exciting, right?”

“Oh, yeah!” She could see him rummage in a brown paper bag and pull out a box with some takeaway food. “But I’m telling you this because we could turn it into our Disneyland trip that you’ve wanted, right?”

“That would be nice, yeah.” She smiled back at the screen, but a terrible yawn sneaked in to her expression. Tom scrunched his forehead and took a large sip from a bottle of water.

“I didn’t wake you up now, did I?”

“No, I just came back home. I am tired, though.”

“Yeah? How was work?”

“Stressful and not nice. It wasn’t a good day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

Tom spent the next minutes carefully listening to her words and trying not to spill his soup on his fresh clothes. He hummed to some of the stories and asked little intrusive questions, to get the whole picture. She kept rubbing at her eyes and stifling her yawns every now and then, at last making a mess of her mascara and getting it all over her skin. Despite the seriousness in her voice, Tom smiled fondly to himself at the view of her ruined face that probably mimicked her current mental state. It wasn’t something he should laugh about, but it was rather endearing to have her so comfortably sharing her lows with him, while he casually ate his lukewarm, very late lunch.

“Why are you laughing at me?” She returned his smile, knowing it was probably something she did.

“You made yourself look like panda.” He chewed on a chunk of chicken from his second plate. The wrinkles by his eyes deepened with each of her chuckles and proved to them that this is the lightness they need in their daily routines. “Well, it’s good you asked for a new placement. You should be comfortable in your work environment. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she yawned again and stopped herself mid-rubbing her eye again, earning a wholesome, groggy laugh from her friend, “your dad thinks they will give me another chance.”

“I mean, he knows some people there, so he probably has a point.”

“Yeah, I just don’t want to get my hopes up too high, you know?” A comfortable silence rested between them after he nodded and continued munching on his food. Millie stood up from her bed and took the phone with her, but also started to slowly get ready for the night.

“You will know when the moment feels right and shows you something worth a shot. Trust yourself, Mills.”

“I guess…” she trailed off, making her way to the closet to find fresh pyjamas. “I’m glad my panda face entertained your… what is it, lunch break?”

“Sort of, yeah,” he chuckled, enjoying the playfulness of her tired self, “I should be coming back in two weeks. We could hang out then, if you’ll have the time.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Alright, I’ll let you rest. Text me anytime, yeah?”

“I will. Thanks for the Minnie ears!”

“You got it, Minnie Mouse. Sweet dreams.”

* * *

After her little mishap with Politics Live, Millie tried her best to keep up the hard work, but stay low. She tried not to focus too much attention and just assist other workers in their tasks, only coming up with ideas when necessary. She strived to come back to her public voice, but she knew she needed it to have a comfortable outlet, preferably in another setting and on different topics. She was greeting the intern manager with additional caution and kindness, trying her best not to leave her case forgotten.

Segregating files for the research team seemed to be the best solution to her temporary creative break. Her attention to detail and wholesome care about the task being done to its full potential came in handy. She volunteered to help the group of meticulously scribbling and researching men in keeping their documents in order.

The soft mumble of the radio in the background was interrupted by a guy named Tim. He always wore rock band t-shirts under his jackets and Millie swore she had seen him participate in a wild dance routine during the last year’s Glastonbury Festival. He stopped typing on his keyboard and started to quietly hum a song that was definitely different to what Scott Mills was announcing on Radio 1.

“Oh my God, do you guys know this song? I can’t get it out of my head!” he groaned in frustration, making a few people in the open space office chuckle.

“Do you know any words, maestro?” Millie’s head snapped up at the sound of Kim, the intern manager’s voice. She was passing by with a bunch of files and a coffee, before she perched herself on his desk, obviously making fun of her friend.

“It’s got this very cool, mariachi-like trumpet between the lines,” he mimicked a trumpet player and hummed some more, “and the guy sings something about stopping a feeling…”

“Justin Timberlake?”

“You know he’s not my jam, Kim! It’s an old-school song.”

“You’re the old-school one here.” Kim’s comment earned a couple more laughs at poor Tim, who was genuinely struggling. “you’re the researcher, have you googled it?”

“Of course I googled it, stop mocking me! People are watching.”

Their little light-hearted exchange brought a breezy atmosphere to the office and made Millie smile some more. She kept on looking up at Tim to check if he’s found the song he was looking for, but without luck. Her fingertips started to tingle with each swipe through the pages in a file, because she felt like she knew the song. Deciding to come against her decision to lay low, she gently cleared her throat and swallowed her nerves of speaking up in a new environment.

“Hey Tim, have you tried to find it on Spotify?” they both looked at Millie with playful smiles, as anyone would to the up and coming intern fresh out of university.

“I don’t think it’s the title of the song, so I won’t find it there.”

“But you actually could,” she offered, biting her lip nervously “since the recent update, you can now type in the lyrics into the search bar and the results will show you all licensed songs with the same or similar lyrics.” Tim instantly reached for his phone and started typing away.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that, let’s see…” Kim looked into his phone and watched his progress.

“And since you’ve remembered a catchy verse, it’s very possible that others also tried to find this song through the same words. So, it will probably come up within the first few results.”

“Alright, smarty.” He shook his head in amusement. Millie watched as Kim’s face got ridden of any emotion and just stared at Tim’s work.

“But if nothing comes up, you can always try ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ by Blue Swede.”

Millie waited with racing heart at their reactions. Tim clicked on one of the results and raised the volume, filling the room with a sound so familiar to Millie’s memory. She smiled shyly and internally patted herself on the back, before coming back to her task.

“How did you know this song?” His triumphant smile was radiating, as he did a little dance in his seat and twirled on his rolling chair. “It’s such an old tune, I didn’t think your generation would know it!”

“Yeah Millie, how did you know?” Kim encouraged his question and watched her carefully, almost as if she was studying her intern.

“It’s in the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy. I wrote a paper on it.”

“Hm.” Kim’s unreadable expression was giving Millie chills, but in a positive way. She liked to be asked about things that interested her and prompted her to be creative, so the way this situation evolved was close to burst her heart into passionate flames. “I’ll ask the Radio managers if they want a music and pop culture geek, how’s that sound?”

It sounded like Millie put the trust in herself at the right time.

****

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babyurthendofjune · 4 years

Text

kiss in the kitchen

gif credit

We’re gonna ignore the fact that I keep using lyrics as my titles cause I’m not creative enough to come up with my own

This is for @lovinhesmdcn‘s Mean Birthday writing prompt event! My birthday this year was one of the worst days of my life so I chose to create a fantasy where that day never happened. *deep sigh* one day I will stop using my personal experiences so much in my writing but today is not that day.

I feel the need to apologize to those of you that read the sneak peek and came here expecting smut! This is pure fluff sorry :) hope you still enjoy it!

word count: 3k

Harry was still baffled at the fact that you did not care one bit about celebrating your birthday.

"It's your special day, love, wanna celebrate you. With you. Y'don't want a party or anything?"

You shake your head no, strands of hair falling from your messy bun into your face. You brush them away and bring your mug of coffee to your lips, taking a long sip. This had become Harry's daily breakfast topic, trying to convince you to let him do something for your day of birth.

"I told you, Harry. My last birthday was..a traumatic day for me and I just don't want to be reminded of that."

"I know, but," He stuffs another bite of pancake in his mouth before continuing, "This year you have me. I wanna spoil my girl and s'not fair that you're refusing me that chance."

You roll your eyes, "You spoil me everyday."

"Do not."

"Do too. Who made breakfast and refused to let me help?"

"That's not spoiling. S'just because I didn't want you to burn the pancakes again."

"That was ONE time, and it's only because YOU distracted me."

"Just wanted a good morning kiss, ya the one that got all greedy and wanted more." He waves his fork in your direction, emphasizing his point, "Filthy little tease, you are."

"Maybe I am, but you have to admit you started it that day."

You stand to take the now empty plates to the sink. Before you have a chance to stack them, Harry is pulling you into his lap. A sticky, syrup flavored kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth. His hands moving around to interlock behind your back to keep you secure.

"If you truly don't want to do anything for your birthday, we won't. It's your day, you decide how we spend it, alright? Shame to pass up the opportunity for cake though."

You sigh, admitting defeat, "We can have cake, if that will make you happy."

"Yeah?" His eyes light up at the idea, "A party with presents too?"

"No party. Just want to spend the day with you. Maybe dinner or something, just the two of us. You may buy me one present, if you wish."

"One present, huh?"

"I mean it, Harry. No party. NO surprise guests. One present. Promise me." You hold one pinky out, waiting.

He looks at your finger, level now with his face, eyes narrowed at it before bringing a hand to loop his pinky around yours, "Deal. Any other rules?"

You shake your head no, placing your hand flat to his chest to push yourself off his lap.

He catches you quickly, a strong arm thrown around your waist, ignoring your laughter as you plop back down on his thighs.

"Y'not going anywhere yet. We have cake flavors to discuss."

When the day arrives, the two of you spend most of the morning in bed before he forces you to get up for a late lunch.

A small square package, messily wrapped in colorful paper lay on the kitchen table in front of you,

"This does NOT count as your present. I just saw it at the store and couldn't resist.”

He's giggly the whole time you rip the paper away, you protesting about him already breaking your rules.

"S'not a real one, of course. Knew you'd throw a fit if I did that."

With the paper finally gone, you pull the top off the box only to gasp at what's nestled there in tissue paper.

A crown. A more grown up version of the plastic, fake-jeweled ones you wore religiously as a child. This one sparkles silver against pastel pink paper, the afternoon light reflecting the glitter and casting a glow across your face. When you don't move to take it from its wrapping, Harry moves forward, removing it from the box to nestle it on top of your head.

He pulls back, eyes sweeping over your face, hovering there for a moment before placing a kiss to the top of your head.

"How's it look?" He's looking at you the way you look at a sunset, like he's never seen anything more gorgeous.

"Perfect."

"Thank you, H. You're spoiling me again."

"S'your birthday, princess, will you stop being so stubborn and just enjoy it?"

"Where're we going for dinner?"

You stand in front of your closet, post-shower, in nothing but a loose sleep shirt and underwear. Your hair rests atop your head in rollers. Your only instructions so far from Harry were to get ready and dress nice.

"Who says m'taking you to dinner?" His voice is muffled through the slightly open bathroom door.

"Oh..I just thought.."

He emerges from behind the door, towel tied loosely around his waist, coming to stand next to you in front of his own side of the closet you share. His hand snakes around to rest on your hip before pulling you close to press a kiss to your temple.

"M'just kidding, lovie. Just want to surprise you though..can you let me do that?"

His hand resting on your mostly bare hip has you pulling your bottom lip into your mouth and casting a smirk his way.

"None of that," He quickly pulls his hand away, landing a playful swat to your thigh before smiling down at the mark he knows will temporarily form on your skin, "We have reservations, plenty of time for all that after dinner."

"Well will you at least tell me how nice you mean by dress nice? How am I supposed to decide what to wear? You know I have a hard enough time choosing when I do know where we're going."

"Then let me choose for you." He leads you to the bed, pushing you to sit on the edge, a hand coming to cover your eyes.

You let out a deep sigh, closing your eyes.

"D'ya not trust me?"

"Of course I do. You know I do."

"Alright then. No peekin'."

You hear him shuffle away, then the sound of hangers gliding back and forth across the rod in the closet as he makes his selection.

"Will you be picking shoes as well? Or do I get to decide that?"

"I'll pick them." It's easy to visualize the smile on his lips. He's enjoying this way too much.

You hear the bathroom door open again and you temporarily peek one eye open, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"What about jewelry?"

"Ah, forgot about that. Thank you, babe." He's at your dresser now, you hear the top of your jewelry box being removed and the clink of things being removed and replaced as he carefully coordinates what will go best together.

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"Patience, angel. Almost done."

His feet are too quiet as he returns to you, and you jump when a finger boops your nose. He chuckles before bending down to whisper in your ear, "Be ready in 20" landing another playful swat at your hip.

He's placed everything in the bathroom, hanging the dress on the back of the door, shoes and accessories on the counter.

Of course he would choose that dress. He's told you frequently how much he loves it on you, the soft, flowy fabric hugging your body and accentuating your features in the most flattering ways. Lucky for him it was one of your favorites too. You laugh when you see the shoes, a pair of low set heels. He knows you too well, knows you will most likely want a glass of wine (or two) with dinner and how dangerous your higher heels are, even when you're sober.

20 minutes isn't as much time as you would have liked, but you put yourself together as best you can with the time you are given. Thankfully your hair set easily in soft waves because of the rollers, saving you that extra time to make sure your make-up looks as decent as possible.

Harry waits for you, perched on the edge of the bed in the same spot he made you sit earlier while he selected your outfit. His head is down and when you appear in front of him he looks up, letting out a low whistle at the sight of you.

"You look like a dream, love, an absolute dream." His hands come to rest on your hips, eyes sweeping over your body, basking in the glow of your beauty.

You run your hands through his hair, trying to ignore his hand traveling further down to dip under the hem of your dress. When his fingers graze the inside of your thigh, you tug lightly at the ends of his curls, just enough to pull his attention back up to your face.

"Thought you said we didn't have time for all that..reservations, remember?"

"Damn the reservations. They can hold the table for a bit.."

"Last time you said that, we didn't even make it to dinner, H. I love you, I love your hands..and your mouth," You run your thumb over his bottom lip, which earns you a cheeky grin, "But right now the birthday girl is very hungry and she was promised dinner."

He groans when you pull your hands from his hair, tugging on his wrist to pull him up. The new angle has him looking down at you now, and for a second you regret rejecting his offer. An evening spent in bed with him would be just as perfect, if not more, than any dinner he could treat you to. He's grinning, like he knows exactly what you're thinking.

"S'pose she was. Can I at least give the birthday girl a kiss before we go?" His hand is slipping around to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He knows you'll say yes, and yet he still waits, wants to hear you say it.

"Hmm..the birthday girl would happily accept a kiss."

The restaurant is far more extravagant than you could have imagined. It has you repeatedly looking down at the dress you felt so confident in 10 minutes before in the comfort of your own home. It's not elegant enough, you're sure nothing in your closet would have been. You wish desperately you had brought a sweater with you, if not to cover up as much as to have the comfort against your skin.

Harry senses your unease and quickly determines the source, taking your hand from across the table, reminding you how perfect you look. You think you detect a bit of nerves flowing from him as well, but you think nothing of it, dismissing it quickly as you projecting your own feelings onto him.

He had promised your present, your real present, would be given to you at dinner. But he carried with him no bag, no messily wrapped package like from the afternoon. Just himself and his too expensive suit, sitting across from you. He's scanning the menu, rambling on about what sounds good and you hum agreements here and there, but you can't help but be curious what else he has planned for the evening.

After the waiter comes to take your order, you take a moment to scold him, "This is too much, Harry. You really shouldn't have."

He just shrugs, brushing your reprimand off, simply saying, "S'a special night, innit?"

The food is amazing, as you knew it would be. You both stay mostly silent through the rest of dinner, just enjoying your meals and each other's company. Occasionally he stares at you affectionately as you sip your wine.

You had talked him down from the idea of a cake, deciding that dessert at whatever restaurant he chose would be the more low-key option. So when the dessert course arrives and there's still no mention of a present, you don't say anything. Truth be told you don't really care if he got you anything, he had followed your requests; no party, just a day with him and a quiet dinner. But it wasn't like him and just as you're about to question him, deciding how best to word it without sounding like a brat, he reaches into his jacket pocket.

Instead of pulling out whatever it was he was so carefully trying to surprise you with, his eyes go wide. He frantically pats all his pockets, even checking underneath the table to make sure it hadn't tumbled out and landed at his feet. He straightens, clearing his throat and you laugh at his flustered expression.

"Lose something there, Harry?"

"No, no..I, um..must've just forgotten it at home. I swear, honey, I'm so sorry. I was so careful to keep it hidden from you this past week. Couldn't wait to give it to you and I just..ruined the whole night now."

"H, I don't care. I mean, I care that you're upset, but I don't care if you forgot the present. I wouldn't have cared if you didn't get me a thing. The day with you, the dinner, nothing could ruin that."

"You're too good to me, too forgiving. I forget and you comfort me, s'not fair." He's smiling though, green eyes glowing in the candlelight between the two of you.

The next night, the two of you get a rare night in to spend together. No staying late at work for you, no extra time in the studio for him. Just takeout and trash tv that Harry always complains about, but secretly loved just as much as you. You were waiting on your Mexican food to be delivered, mixing up a batch of margaritas. You would take a night like this over an exquisite dinner out anytime.

Harry had spent the whole day apologizing, finding little ways to try to make up for what he still claimed was a ruined dinner. You shushed him each time, just wishing he would forgive himself.

Just as you're getting glasses down to pour drinks for the two of you, Harry sneaks up behind you. He takes your hand, twirling you around to face him, catching your waist when you almost fall.

He chuckles, but instantly the energy in the room has changed. It's different from your normal, everyday butterflies you get from his hand resting against your skin. No, this feels much heavier and it terrifies you.

"Found your present." His tone is light enough that some of your anxiety is eased, the smile growing on his face chasing any other doubts away that may have temporarily flooded your thoughts.

Before you can say anything, he's lifting your hand and slipping a ring on your finger.

"Oh Harry, it's stunning!" Your mind doesn't even make the connection at first, you're too mesmerized by the simple beauty of the silver ring sitting snug against your skin. He's still smiling, so big the crinkles around his eyes are shining, dimples prominent on either side of his mouth. He seems to be expecting an answer, but he hasn't asked you a question..

Suddenly it all becomes clear; the fancy dinner, the special night, it wasn't all just for your birthday.

"Harry, is this a..?" You can't even say the word, it gets caught in your throat and you swallow quickly. Before you can try again, he answers.

"S'what I intended it for, yeah." He's still beaming, "You said only one present and I wanted it to be one that counts. I know we haven't really talked much about this but it's been on my mind for a while. I love you so much, you're so good to me, good for me too and I just can't imagine not spending the rest of my days with you. Having children and growing old with you by my side, if that’s what you want. S'pose I should actually say the words though, right?"

He takes a deep breath, bringing your hand to rest on his chest, his hand covering yours before speaking again, "Will you marry me?"

The next breath out of your body is a single, "Yes." You think maybe it was too quiet and he didn't hear you at first, but then his eyes meet yours, searching quickly for any more doubts, "Yeah?"

You nod, tears forming as he lifts you, spins you once around in the kitchen before sitting you on the counter. He fits easily there in the space in front of you, like he was created to be there. To be yours, and you his.

"I have a confession to make." He's looking at you like a child who just got caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing.

"I didn't forget the ring last night." He's looking down, eyes darting up at you to gauge your reaction, scared to death you'll change your mind at any second.

"You had it with you the whole time? All that was an act? Looking for the ring, pretending it wasn't really there?"

"Well, no. I didn't have the ring on me then. The waiter had it. He was waiting on my signal. But yeah the rest of it was an act..had to pretend I’d forgotten it. Did a pretty good job, eh?"

"So when was it supposed to be delivered then?"

"With dessert, but that just," He wrinkles his nose, "Didn't feel right, didn't feel like us. I would much rather tell our children that I proposed to their mother like this than in some fancy restaurant that she didn't look comfortable in."

"I really looked that miserable, huh?" You wrinkle your nose back, trying to picture the image that Harry must've seen of you the night before.

"No, you looked gorgeous, love. I just prefer you like this. Softer and messier and fun and just not a care in the world as you dance around our kitchen making drinks for us."

The tears are spilling over now and he moves closer, hands cupping your cheeks and swiping them away.

"I love you so much, H." You wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your middle, lifting you again. He holds you there for a minute, burying his face in your neck and securing his hands under you so you won't fall.

"I love you more, baby, so much more." He places kisses up your neck and along your jaw, landing the final one on your lips.

Whatever tragic memory your birthday held for you previously, would now forever shine instead with the reminder of his love for you.

#meanbirthdayprompt #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #my writing #this is so cheesy as alwayssss

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